Blood in the Viewfinder
by justdi
Summary: I don't own VF. Asami sent Akihito away. Akihito has a new job. Anti-Yakuza laws are causing problems for Asami. Will master/pet find each other again or are the two doomed to be apart? Rubs hands with glee Dark Humor, smexygoodness. Akihito/OC see uncensored version at mistressdi dot livejournal dot com.
1. Chapter 1

Blood in the Viewfinder (making it real hard to take pictures)

Entrepreneur Asami Ryuichi studied the photographs in front of him carefully, while taking a deep drag off his cigarette. He had been going through about two-packs a day, but now it was close to three-packs. And his right hand man, Kirishima Kei, noticed because nothing escaped his watchful eye. He was 20/20. With his glasses, that is. He needed new ones though; since these always slipped down his nose went he bent over, which was unfortunate since he tended to bow a lot.

"You're smoking a great deal, Asami-sama, would you care for your filter?" His secretary said, carefully dancing around the subject, bracing for Asami's sharp as knife wit. It wasn't a subject he brought up often, but he was worried about his boss's increase in his consumption of nicotine. He knew the reason, though, one Takaba Akihito. His boss's lover was on his mind. Another part of Asami's anatomy took over when Asami's actual brain was occupied elsewhere.

"No, and thank you for the observation, mother hen." He snapped sharply, his eyes not leaving the photographs in front of him. "Akihito's really digging himself deep this time." He would dig himself all the way to China if he wasn't careful, since China wasn't that far from Tokyo.

After being rescued from Hong Kong and the pervy clutches of Feilong, Akihito decided he was going to "get his life back." Whatever that entailed, and threw himself into his work, highly motivated, thanks to a seminar from a motivational speaker, to make his name known as a criminal photographer, just to spite Asami's wishes, warnings and threats. Asami thought of Akihito as more than a rent-an-ass, but Akihito wasn't ready to accept his help nor his bed nor his more-than-subtle suggestions to stay out of trouble. Because he was kind of dumb like that.

Now, every felon in town was gunning for him, a bulls-eye on his back, an unwilling pawn in this dark game. Asami was slowly coming to realize he could no longer effectively protect the boy, without sacrificing Akihito's freedom. Every two-bit hood knew of or suspected their relationship, something he tried to keep secret.

Actually, they didn't try very hard. How many times had they kissed in front of his men? Groped at each other even before the limo door had closed? A heated word, an intimate touch was all it took for people to gossip, because they had nothing else to do. It didn't take long for Asami and Akihito to show up on the "Who's Gay" list, as if it mattered what they did in the privacy of their bedroom (limo, kitchen, boat, underground soundproofed industrial building). So now Akihito was getting targeted from both sides, from his job and his relationship with Asami. Double whammy.

_I should have locked you in a cage when I had the chance._

In the photo, two men were meeting, in secret, it seemed. Who would meet at the docks at two in the morning? Certainly not anyone law abiding, that was for sure. One man was offering what looked like a boat load of money in a plain brown brief case. Who did that anymore? Most payoffs were under-the-radar wire transfers through off-shore accounts; otherwise, you would have to pay taxes on the bribe money. The scene was almost comical, as if the men were playing Mystery Theater, complete with black gloves and a handlebar moustache.

The one man making the bribe, the one he recognized, was Diet member Hakatora Chikaza, a very vocal and angry House associate. Hakatora was a walking heart attack, because he wouldn't watch his cholesterol, very dangerous, politically speaking and someone you didn't cross if you could help it. So, early in Hakatora's career, Asami had bought him off with pocket change, well, to Asami it was pocket change. He always kept an extra million yen in his pocket, just in case he needed to buy gum. He didn't need an enemy like that, so he decided to make him an ally, a decision he'd never regretted, not that Asami ever regretted anything anyway.

So why was this government lackey offering a bribe in a suitcase, and not even a nice suitcase? Why wasn't he informed about it? The photos actually were proof that Hakatora was up to no good, or had gone off the deep end, or both and something would have to be done about it. Asami smoked his cigarette to the end, pondering on such things as murder, how to get away with murder, and why murder was most foul. Because this kind of behavior annoyed him.

_And when Asami was annoyed, people died._

Asami had stopped the publication of the photos as usual, because truthfully, he had no other job but to butt into Akihito's life, emphasis on the word butt. Akihito was spotted that night and chased down by his lackey's bodyguard. Asami almost wished he could bottle Akihito's endorphins when he chased a scoop, or the scoop chased him. He would make a killing in the drug market, not that he wasn't already.

How many times had Akihito been kidnapped, held for ransom, shot at, beaten, chased, injured, drugged, groped, and even raped since they had met? (Not counting the time that Akihito was raped by Asami). After the 5th time, he stopped counting because he ran out of fingers. Asami wasn't Superman, even though he sometimes looked that way to Akihito when he kicked in the door with guns blazing, eyes fierce, ready to take revenge on anyone that touched his Akihito. And when he did, Akihito would look up and say, "about time you got here," with a smirk that rivaled his own.

That night, Asami couldn't come rescue him. He was in the Bat Cave plotting to take over the world with Kirishima and members of another faction or something like that. He couldn't remember. When he found out, he was royally pissed. To be royally pissed is the same as really mad, but you get to use a scepter instead of your fists to hit people with. And you get to wear a really cool crown on your head.

Luckily, Asami's own men had created a diversion so that Akihito could get away. It was pure luck they were there, as Akihito had dodged his bodyguard earlier in the day, again. If the Olympics had "bodyguard dodging" as a sport, Akihito would get the gold.

But one of these days, Akihito's luck would run out. It wasn't a matter of "if" it was a matter of when. Luck was one those things, you couldn't push it, you couldn't hoard it, and when it ran out, you were screwed, royally. Royally screwed meant that…well, never mind.

And it bothered him, nagged at him, made him see red every time Akihito would strap on his camera bag and say _See you later, I have a job, _with that self-satisfied smile that told Asami that he was going to, yet again, something rash and stupid. Asami stubbed out his cigarette and took out another. He was a chain smoker after all, and the chain was long and had little handcuffs at the end. "Where is he?" Asami asked Kirishima because Kirishima always knew where the boy was. He had Akihito radar recently installed.

"He's out with his friends, drinking." Kirishima answered.

"Again? This is the fourth night this week. The boy's a drunk." He turned his gold eyes to face his 2nd in command and frowned.

"He's not the one drinking. He just sips on juice and laughs with his friends." Kirishima reported to his boss. "Akihito is working almost every day, not that he has much to show for it. He's a busy man."

"I wish he'd pick another profession. My personal maid would be nice." He grinned like a mad dog in heat. Asami didn't believe in spaying or neutering.

Kirishima shuddered at the thought of Akihito in a maid's outfit. Inwardly he knew his boss's wishes would never come true. Not that his boss would ever wish for anything. What he wanted, he bought. What he desired, he threatened. And what he needed, he took. But because Akihito was an actual person and not a thing, even though Asami might have thought otherwise, his lover would never bend to Asami's requests. He'd bend in other ways, but just not like that. Akihito didn't seem to fear death or pain. It was the reason Asami liked the boy in the first place. So asking your lover to change the thing that you love most about them….well, that was one of those things that Dr. Phil said never to do.

Akihito's stubbornness was most likely going to get him killed. And it wouldn't be an easy death. He'd probably end up fish food in Tokyo Bay (Tokyo Bay had more bodies than fish), or shot so full of holes, you could have an anatomy lesson. Kirishima knew it, Asami knew it, but it seemed that Akihito was the clueless one. Akihito's life could end and Kirishima felt sorry for the boy with the iron will (he also had an iron ass). If Akihito was killed, Asami would have no choice but to retaliate, turning the Tokyo underworld into a graveyard. And he would too, Kirishima was sure of it. He was kind of crazy like that.

_After all, you shouldn't wake a sleeping lion, you will get eaten._

Asami rose and turned the globe on his desk, watching it spin. _The world keeps on turning_, Asami thought, _with or without you. _From the look on his face, Kirishima realized he had come to a decision. Something had to be done about the photographer. "I can't ask anymore of him, Kirishima. He's not willing to follow my orders. I want to lock him in a cage, but I can't." The stoic man said suddenly. "Akihito really has a lot of growing up to do. It's time he leaves my side so he can grow. With me, he will wither and die." Suddenly Asami knew everything about growing plants, but not people.

"I know, Asami-sama," agreed Kirishima, sadly.

"I've fallen into a bad habit, one of many." He flicked his cigarette butt into the ashtray. "So if I ask for him, I will allow you tell me 'no.'" Asami said. "I refuse to make the skies over Tokyo rain blood unless I have to."

"I will, Asami-sama." Kirishima responded. He made a mental note to stock up on cigarettes, whiskey, condoms, porn, fireworks, bullets, and maybe some ice cream. Oh wait, that was his grocery list.

"If he comes looking for me, which I'm sure he will, don't let him near me. It's better this way." He said. "Keep the guard on him in the meantime. It will take some time for the underworld to realize he no longer holds my interest." He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew out the rich heady flavor of his Dunhill, imported of course. "Spread a rumor that he's been dumped." He chuckled slightly in irony, coincidence or coincidental irony. "I guess it won't be a rumor." He knew he was being a major asshole (or Rear Admiral asshole), but it couldn't be helped. If he contacted the young photographer and told him why they could no longer see each other, there would be an argument, then the boy would cry, then they'd fuck. Lather, rinse, repeat.

"And his job?" Asked Kirishima.

"I won't control the jobs he's offered." He looked sorrowful for a moment, but it passed quickly because it was a requirement to not show your emotions if you were a tough mob boss. It was one of those classes you took in tough mob boss school.

"I understand Asami-sama." His boss's words, to some people, well most people with morals, would have been seen as cruel. But Kirishima had been around the man for 20 years, making Kirishima about 80 years old, give or take. His boss's feelings would never bubble to the surface. His emotions would erupt like a volcano, burying those around him, like Vesuvius buried Pompeii. He had only seen it once. The time when Akihito went missing on the cruise ship in Hong Kong and Asami emptied his gun into a messenger's body and kept firing even after the chamber was empty. He had looked at the face of utter despair then and he hoped he'd never have to see it again, because it was a really scary, scary face.

_It was for the best._

Kirishima went about his duties, not questioning what had just occurred because if he did, he would end up in Tokyo Bay, the favorite dumping grounds of all Yakuza. You almost had to make a reservation to dump bodies there. But inwardly, he knew that his boss's heart, if he had one, was breaking and there was nothing he could do but sweep up the pieces, as the maid had just been let go.

_I'd said I give you anything you want, Akihito, except your freedom. Well, now I've given you your freedom. What will you do with it? Will you become a man, your dreams realized? Or will you die with regret, having not really lived at all?_

_Put on your Nikes and go live. I will still be here waiting for you to find your way home._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It didn't surprise criminal photographer Takaba Akihito in the least when he found out his photos of the hand-off had been confiscated. He also knew that the person who had confiscated said photos was waiting for him to come charging through the doors of Club Sion yelling expletives until the man kissed him to shut him up. He would stop talking and start moaning instead, because Asami really was a great kisser.

He always welcomed that kiss, even though he didn't show it. They had fallen into this passive-aggressive "fuck me to make me forget how angry I am at you" type of relationship. Akihito knew it wasn't healthy, but he wasn't one to be worried about his well-being. His choice of professions made that obvious. He'd choose mind-blowing sex over his mental health any day. Go mind-blowing sex.

What did surprise Akihito when he arrived was the cold shoulder he got from the bouncer. "Go away." He had said to him. He had tried to run past them, but was picked up by this big goon that he'd never seen before and thrown down the steps, which was decidedly not wheelchair friendly. "Go away!" Big goon said again. "You are not allowed on the property."

"But, it's me," he said, confused, "I'm Akihito. I need to see Asami."

"I don't care if you're the Emperor, he isn't here, shorty."

"Hey I prefer the term _little person_, asshole." It wasn't that he was short; it was that everyone else around him was so tall. "Well, where is he?"

"What am I his secretary?" The bouncer just chuckled and pointed to the street with a smirk (did everyone in Asami's employ smirk like that?), indicating that Akihito should leave before something _bad _happened. In defiance he flipped the bouncer off, and walked down the street. Flipping someone off in Japan really didn't have the intended effect, but he saw it in an American movie once and it looked so cool that he used it often, adding it to his repertoire of obscene gestures.

He called Asami on his cell then, demanding answers from the beautiful older man who had stolen his innocence and most likely his heart, not that he was going to tell Asami that. Well, he might, on his death bed, when the Shinigami stood ready to take him. He waited, tapping his foot impatiently for the call to go through.

_The number you have reached has travelled outside of the calling area or has been disconnected; please try your call again._

"Huh?" He said out loud and tried the number again. He got the same response. "What happened?"

Worriedly he called Kirishima's private number. He would know what was going on. Was Asami out of the country? Hurt? Dead? Fucking someone else (better not be because then he will be dead!)?

"_Kirishima."_

"Finally, I get someone on the phone! It's Akihito. Where is Asami?" He said loudly.

"_Takaba-kun, how are you?" _Kirishima asked, politer than usual.

"Never mind, where is he? Is he travelling? I….he….he has some photos of mine and I need them."

"_You won't get them back, Akihito. I suggest you move on."_

"I don't understand." He said, chewing his bottom lip.

"_Asami-sama says for you to move on." _

"You tell that rat bastard asshole pervert Yakuza jerk prick I need those photos or I won't get paid!" He yelled into the phone, using all the colorful adjectives he could for the man. "I can't make my rent without it!"

"_You will find compensation for your photos in your account as of nine tomorrow. Asami-sama suggests you use that money to move on with your life. Travel, see the world, expand your horizons. Your services are no longer needed." Click._

"_WHAT THE FUCK? MY SERVICES?" _He yelled into the phoneeven though there was no longer anyone on the line. Now he was talking to himself.

Akihito knew the truth then, and it hit him in the gut. Hard. Asami had finally grown tired of him. He had been expecting it, planned for it, almost wanted it to happen so he could get it over with. But when the reality of it hit, he wasn't prepared for it. Balling his hands into a fist, he fought the urge to cry in public. He'd been dumped, given his walking papers, set adrift. He started crying when he was around the corner from the club. Sprinting home, dodging people as he went, tears trailing after him like rain drops, he collapsed as soon as he could get inside the door, not bothering with his shoes. His chest was heaving from running, as if he could run from the pain. Even though part of him wanted Asami to leave him alone, the other part of him, the part that had started to feel something for the man, the part that wouldn't listen to reason, was in turmoil.

_That bastard didn't even have the guts to say it person. I'll hate you until I die, Asami. _

After a lot of contemplating, mostly how Asami was a rat bastard and other words along those lines, Akihito finally cried himself to sleep. In the morning, he put band-aids on his broken heart (which meant fake smiles for the neighbor lady), went to the bank and checked his balance. ¥400,185. Asami had gifted him for his services, as he called it, ¥400,000 yen. This last year he had been the man's whore for a measly ¥400,000. His ass was worth more than that. He would think of another adjective for Asami. Cheap bastard.

He withdrew the ¥400,000, which meant he had ¥185 which wasn't enough to even buy udon for lunch at the noodle shop, and went to put it in Asami's mailbox. Maybe he would put some stinky kimchee in there for good measure, or a putrid fish. Asami was so nasty to the core he probably liked the smell of rotting things. It wouldn't surprise him.

He was thinking he would write a little note, but what could he say? _Hey jerkface, here is your money thanks but no thanks you damned prick._ He would continue calling him names until his pen ran out of ink. Asami wouldn't care. You couldn't hurt that man with words, any more than you could hurt him with bullets. He was probably born with a bulletproof vest underneath that well-toned chest. It made sense, as the man had a perfect body even though Akihito had never seen him work-out (Asami didn't own any sweats either, for that matter). Did he workout in a three-piece suit?

He slipped both the money in the slot, and walked away, head held high as he could. He had his pride after all. He'd become a famous photojournalist and come back and throw that in his face.

_In the end, success is the greatest revenge of all. _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Akihito returned the money you gave him, Asami-sama" Kirishima said, placing the money on his desk, pushing up his glasses with the other hand.

"Ooooo harsh, but I'm not surprised. He's so predictable. Guess I was kind of an asshole, right?" Asami said, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket.

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it might cause me to be dead." Kirishima said.

"Fufu, Kirishima." He said, taking a drag on his cigarette, as he nothing else to do since he was no longer chasing the boy around Tokyo. Maybe he should beat somebody up, that would kill an afternoon.

"A yen for your thoughts, Asami-sama." Kirishima said, wondering if a yen would even buy him anything in this world. He quickly calculated the exchange rate. Nope, it wouldn't.

"I think the going rate for my thoughts would be around ¥100,000,000." He quipped.

"I've adjusted for inflation and cost of living." He replied.

"Detailed as usual. I'm just thinking about that idiot boy." He said, sort of wistfully, glancing at the where the couch used to be, remembering when he had fucked Akihito there so hard that they broke the springs. Well, that's what he got for buying a couch from Ikea.

"If you'd like I can call for Sudou, if you need…relief in that area. He seems to be interested in you."

"That skank? He's got more diseases then the local hospital. The other day he had a sore on his lip and I couldn't stop staring at it. I swear it was alive. I ordered him orange juice from the bar so I could watch his pained expression while he drank it." Asami said, grinning madly.

"You really are a sadist." Kirishima pointed out.

"Thank you, I take that as a compliment." Asami said.

-BVF-

Akihito's life changed quickly now that he was no longer a Yakuza boss's pet. For one he wasn't walking with a rather permanent limp. And secondly, he had an offer for a new job. Months ago, when he and Asami were at each other's throats, which was usually every day, he wanted to get away from him for good and applied for a photography position with National Geographic International. Not that he thought that Asami would actually let him go or that he would get the job, but it felt good to apply nonetheless. To get away from Asami he would have to go under the witness protection program and get plastic surgery. Add another adjective to describe Asami. Crazy. Crazy cheap bastard.

Fast forward a few months.

National Geographic wanted him to take photos in Afghanistan of some kind of leopard. The photographer they had hired backed out and they were desperate. He was desperate. They could all be desperate together. And hopefully he could get some good photos out of this unified desperation.

He was really going to get his life back, the one stolen from him the night Asami kidnapped and raped him. Why he fell for someone who raped him and shoved film rolls up his ass was a mystery, even if the guy was hotter than hell and a demon in bed.

The only thing he had left was his memories, however screwed up they were and the camera he gave him on the island. He had forgotten about it when he dropped off the money. A small tear threatened to erupt from his eyes, because that's where tears were born. But he wasn't going to cry. He was done crying. It didn't do any good. Mostly, it just made his eyes red, and his nose run, and he already looked like a kid so when he cried, it just enhanced his child-like appearance. He wondered if they had pills for that. Growth hormones? Anti-blushing serum?

Shoving the camera in his pocket, he arrived at Kou's apartment to start the evening's festivities: drinking, karaoke, more drinking, a viewing of Heidi, followed by more drinking. Maybe he would eat something, but that would only harsh his buzz.

"Hey Kou," Akihito said as he arrived back at his friend's apartment. "Busy?"

"Nah, just wrapping up some e-mails. How are you doing?" He said, not taking his eyes off the screen in front of him because he was actually watching porn.

"Never better," He tried to smile but it felt forced. Mainly because it was.

Kou closed his laptop and turned to his friend. "I know when you're lying, Akihito." Actually, Akihito lied a lot, so he had a 50/50 chance.

"Yeah? So what! He threw me away. All I have are some fucking memories (or memories of fucking) and I'm trying very hard to forget them. And I have this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the camera. "I don't know what to do with it. Maybe I should shove it up his ass without lube and see if he likes it. Actually, he would like it."

Kou blushed. "What you need is rebound sex."

"Who with? How about that guy Feilong who raped me, or that other guy with the soul patch that groped me, or that other guy from Russia who didn't speak Japanese. He wanted to rape me too. It would be nice for once, if someone asked me to have sex instead of forcing me like I'm some kind of human toilet!" He yelled loudly.

"It's because you look vulnerable, Akihito. It brings out the seme in normal everyday guys, you know, except me. I'm the only straight guy in Tokyo." He pointed out.

"What about Takato?" He asked bluntly.

"I have my doubts."

He rolled his eyes, which was interesting to watch because Akihito's eyes were so huge. "Anyway, I'm broke, I'm dumped, and I'm going to some shit hole to take pictures of cats." He said, huffing slightly from his tirade. Usually Akihito didn't talk this much because it wouldn't fit in a manga panel. "I can't tell if things are looking up, or I'm just feeling sorry for myself."

"Ummm….I think…."

"At any rate," He interrupted, "you're paying for the drinks, because I'm down to my last few yen and I need it to buy overpriced food on the plane." He put the camera back in his pocket. Someday he might just give it back in person and smack that smug smirk off Asami's face. He deserved it.

"When aren't you broke Akihito?" He quipped. "Takato is going to meet us later; he wants to drink you under the table."

"Yeah, that won't be too hard." Akihito laughed. Really, he didn't want to drink. When he drank, his lips loosened and he found himself talking about Asami openly with his friends. And he didn't want to do that tonight. He won't do that tonight. Tonight, he was going to say goodbye to Tokyo Takaba Akihito and hello to his new life. Oh and watch Heidi.

_Hello new life! Please take care of me!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Kirishima poured another cup of tea for his boss. They had been pulling rather late hours recently, going over spreadsheets, cutting deals, and taking care of other activities that shouldn't be named in polite company, mainly bribery and blackmail, but there was always time for a good knee-cap breaking. Currently, they've been keeping the local orthopedic surgeon very busy.

Asami wanted coffee, but Starbucks was closed and Asami would only drink Venti Toffee Nut Caramel white mocha Frappuccinos with extra caramel drizzle. He was kind of picky that way.

Not once in the past ten days had Asami asked for Akihito, that's because his mouth was always around a cancer stick so he didn't talk much, only acknowledging questions with a caveman like grunt. To others, it looked like he had forgotten the photographer but Kirishima knew the truth. The increase in Asami's work habits masked his need to see his young ex-lover, fuck buddy, pet, slave or whatever he chose to call Akihito.

"The Hakatora bribe. . . " Kirishima started to say, hesitant to bring up the topic, as it had involved _you-know-who_. Plus, if he asked anything work related, that would require his boss to actually work, instead of standing around, looking cool and smoking. Why the guy hadn't been a male model instead of a mob boss was anybody's guess. Maybe because murder was so much fun.

He pushed his glasses up on his nose and waited for Asami to acknowledge him, which might be awhile, since Asami liked to torture his staff, it was one of those things they really liked about him. That and he always remembered their birthdays with a gift of chocolate salty balls.

"Report, " Demanded Asami, flicking his eyes from the paper he was reading to his 2nd in command, as if he hadn't been aware that he'd been standing there for fifteen minutes, because seriously, Kirishima wore so much cologne he smelled like the perfume counter at Macy's.

"Our sources say Hakatora offered the Sumiyoshi-Kai syndicate a security in exchange for curtailing gun smuggling into Tokyo, at least until he is re-elected." He read from the report in his hands.

"A security, as in a shit-load of money." He said, checking the definition in the dictionary. "Why did that transaction take place without my knowledge?" He fumed.

"Evidently, he's got another funder; someone is feeding his re-election coffers. And the way he's trying to get reelected is by actually shutting down the flow of guns into Tokyo, at least in appearance." Kirishima stated.

"Pssh." Asami scoffed. "It's been done. Politicians can't come up with anything original?"

"Obviously not." Kirishima shrugged as he grabbed the remote off the desk and flicked on the television. "This was the feed from the Diet session today."

Asami watched his tool, Hakatora Chikaza, adjust the microphone and take an even breath. The hot lights beat down on the man's bald, sweaty head, giving him the appearance of a salaried man instead of a high ranking politician. Hakatora checked his notes, adjusted his glasses and started speaking evenly with a tone of anger in his voice. Actually, he always sounded like that.

"_We have sent a message to the crime lords of this city that we will not stand as our children are caught in the crossfire of their gang war! As of today, I declare that the Yakuza Anti-gang Ordinance in effect. Attention has turned to Asia as the new hotbed of corruption. We, as a nation, cannot look the other way as crime continues to escalate in our cities. The Yakuza is the new face of terrorism, and I for one will not stand idly by. Corruption is not the way of doing business. The proud people of Japan have spoken. We are coming for you, Yakuza. Your reign of terror is over._

"Fufu. Nice speech, someone's been channeling Hirohito. I would believe him had he not already been in my back pocket for 10 years." Asami said, he had so many people in his back pocket, that is was a little cramped.

Kirishima shut off the television, pushing his glasses back in annoyance as he did so. He really needed new glasses. "With the new law taking effect at midnight tonight, the Sumiyoshi-Kai syndicate will suspect a double-cross."

"The plot thickens." Asami said looking contemplative, although you really couldn't tell because he always looked that way when he wasn't smirking.

Kirishima nodded. "Any orders, in the meantime?" He didn't have anything to do since his boss was no longer chasing Akihito around.

"For now, do nothing. I need to see how this new law is played out. The people are easily swayed by pretty words on paper and flowery speeches in their ears. They are dumb like that." He said, pulling out a cigarette.

"You think the law is enforceable?"

"I don't see how when the Organized Crime Unit continues to look the other way." He said, giving Kirishima a wink. Yeah, they look the other way because he's bribed them all.

"But the will of the people. . ."

"Can be broken, Kirishima." He interrupted. "And in time, the people will realize that our tight hold on the underworld keeps it contained there." He rose from his chair and pulled out his whiskey carafe. He looked thoughtful for a moment as he poured himself a drink. "Takaba," He asked suddenly, "Are you keeping tabs on him?"

"He seems fine. He was kicked out his apartment and is living with Kou. For now, I haven't heard anyone trying to threaten him. It seems the rumor mill spreads fast." Kirishima stopped and adjusted his glasses, again, a bad habit when he was anxious. And the subject of Akihito made him anxious. "He seems to have taken your suggestion to move on. He's got a new job."

"What is he doing?" He asked, swirling his drink around in the glass, letting the ice clink, thankful that Kirishima had stocked up, because obviously, Asami only drank his dinner.

"He's going to Central Asia with National Geographic. They are going to photograph the last remaining wild Snow Leopards in the Afghanistan region." He stated. "If I were a cat, I'd move out of Afghanistan too."

"Interesting, a wild cat stalking a wild cat. That area is a hotbed of danger and not the four-legged kind. I'm not surprised he took the job." Asami stated. "Pssh…now he's going to get all shot up in Afghanistan. I hope he knows what he's doing."

"We are talking Akihito here; does he ever know what he's doing? I don't think he'd go if he knew how dangerous that country is right now, but he seems to want to get out of Tokyo. I'm sure a change of scenery will be good, no matter how ugly the scenery will be." Kirishima cringed after he said it. Why couldn't he keep his sentiments to himself?

"Your opinion is noted." He snapped. He took a sip of whiskey, letting the warm amber liquid coat his tongue and warm his throat. His eyes didn't betray any emotion. Which wasn't surprising since he took top honors in "not showing your emotions" in tough mob boss school. "Pull off the guard, he's no longer needed."

"Understood, Asami-sama." He bowed and left.

_I let you go so you could grow up, Akihito. Be safe. When you stop running from yourself, we will meet again. I look forward to it._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

In the morning, Akihito had the mother and the father of all hangovers; they were busy making pain babies in his head. Horny little devils. His head pounded along with his heartbeat as he boarded his early morning flight, after saying goodbye to his friends. They were smiling and waving, but he could tell they were a little sad too, just like he was. They were sad and hung-over and annoyed because they had to pay for parking.

He took his seat in coach, actually glad he was on the short side for once, so he didn't have to scrunch into the seat, like _some other_ people who shall not be named. The thought of Asami in coach, eating his little precious bag of peanuts and trying to get comfortable made him chuckle. Asami would probably rather die than travel in coach, or throw a 1st class passenger off the plane and take their seat. Another adjective for Asami: pretentious. Pretentious crazy cheap bastard.

Stowing his precious camera bag under the seat, he slowly sat back and closed his eyes, begging the little pain babies in his head to leave him alone. Luckily, he had no seat mate; in fact most of the plane was empty. Afghanistan wasn't the hot tourist destination and he felt glad of that, as it seemed his nausea was getting to him. That so-called friend of his, Kou had forced him to eat that morning, stating a _healthy breakfast was a great way to start the day, _like he was the spokesman for the Healthy Breakfast campaign or something.

NatGeo had sent him paperwork for him to look over, and he settled in to read it. His eyes tried to focus on the letters, but his headache throbbed harder as he read. He got past the first page but couldn't comprehend what he had just read. It just blurred together like one of those math word problems you had no clue how to figure out. Not that he was stupid or anything.

Yawning and putting in earplugs to drown out noise, he watched Tokyo's skyline fade into the background. He put his hand to the window, feeling the droning of the engine through his fingers. This was his last connection with his country, his home, and Asami. And he was glad, at least that is what he kept telling himself. Maybe if he kept telling himself that, eventually his heart would get the message. So far, it wasn't listening.

A hand on his shoulder startled him awake and he instantly tensed. He always seemed to be disoriented when he woke up these days, afraid he would be someplace else other than his bed, drugged and tied up, then, well screwed, literally. The flight attendant told him to buckle his seatbelt and that they would be landing soon. He had slept for more than eight hours, and yet he still felt tired. Ever since Hong Kong, he still had trouble sleeping sometimes, except when he was in the arms of Asami. That's because he usually got fucked so hard, he'd pass out. Guess he'd have to learn to deal with it on his own now.

_Right hand, it's just you and me now._

Kabul, Afghanistan's capital looked beautiful from the sky. Tiny homes dotted the sides of the mountains and blue domed mosques rose above the city. There was lots of new building going on. Kabul was a busy city, and not what he expected at all, actually he didn't know what he was expecting, to be honest. If he had read the dossier, which he totally forgot all about, he would be more prepared. Oops.

After landing, he headed for customs, apprehensive about the whole process, the fact he couldn't speak any other language besides Japanese and a few phrases in English, the fact that he couldn't see over the heads of people, the fact he was out of his element, the fact that he didn't know what the hell he was doing in some shit-hole country. Maybe apprehensive wasn't what he felt. Terrified was more like it.

_I should just turn around and go back home._

Akihito felt his panic build as he stepped into the throng of colorfully garbed people. The smell was unfamiliar; like coffee, sweat and gasoline all mixed into one. Not a good smell. Jets roared overhead, making his ears ring. First thing he noticed. . .guns. Lots of guns. You would have to be blind not to see them. It was like that Mad Max movie where everyone was armed to the teeth, except there were no cool muscle cars. Only this wasn't a movie. If it was there would be more action and a hip-hop soundtrack that would follow him everywhere he went. Oh and popcorn, lots and lots of popcorn, with caramel topping.

Military forces eyed everyone with suspicion, probably because everyone was up to something. Akihito was used to being around guns. Well, sort of, he never did get used to sleeping with a gun under his pillow, but this many unnerved him. It was chaotic to say the least. He was seeing the dogs of war released from their leash to take their revenge. And they weren't nice dogs either. Woof Woof.

_Breathe, Akihito. Breathe. In and out. Go Zen. Ommm…Omm…._

Deep tantric breathing didn't bring any relief whatsoever. And it didn't help that he was getting jostled as he walked towards customs either. He clutched his bags tighter, his knuckles white with tension. He tried his best to ignore the solders and the guns, who seemed as disinterested in him as he was in them, which was a good thing. Because they looked like they would eat him up for an appetizer leaving nothing left but tiny little bones.

But the locals seemed curious, and he was getting once over. Then the twice over. Then the thrice over. He felt like a freak at a circus. Hadn't they ever seen a blond Japanese guy that looked like a kid before? _I mean really, take a picture. In fact, I'll give you one, if you will just stop staring! _It was then he realized. He forgot to pack his hair dye. Oh the horror of roots!

"Takaba-kun, over here!" A voice called in unmistakable Japanese from the gate. It was unmistakable because the man yelled so loud, he could actually be heard over the planes. Akihito was relieved as he pushed his way through the crowd towards the translator, which was difficult; it was like trying to part the Red Sea with a spoon. "I'm Keir Shelly, your translator, nice to work with you." He said in Japanese with a slight American accent.

"Likewise, Shelly-san. Please take care of me." He said, smiling broadly as he gave the man a short bow.

The man smiled at him, it was a warm, comforting smile. He pulled at his arm rather gently and led him through the gate to customs. Americans were so touchy feely, at least that was the standing stereotype, but the hand on his felt nice, calming and warm, like he was touching an old friend. Plus the guy was hot, so he really didn't mind that much. Not that he was looking to get laid, or anything.

Glancing over at his translator with the odd sounding name, well, all American names sounded odd to him, he realized how handsome he was up close. He had short light brown hair; it was almost blond, blue-grey eyes and the prettiest mouth he'd ever seen on a guy. Like two red flowers ready to be plucked. Either that or they were really chapped. He was tall, towering over Akihito, which wasn't that hard, and muscular. His tight black t-shirt and brown shorts showed off his brawny frame. He seemed a little rough around the edges but still young. Certainly older than Akihito but not by much, but it was kind of hard to tell, since Akihito looked about twelve.

"Thank you for being my translator." Akihito said, smiling. "I would be lost without one, Shelly-san." Typically, Akihito would get lost just going to the bathroom.

"Not a problem. Glad to do it. Let's get you through customs." Akihito grabbed his duffle and gear and followed the man. They flashed their press badges and handed over their passports. The customs agents weren't impressed, and actually sneered at Akihito. People in power over others always sneered, smirked or looked smug. They never smiled though; maybe it hurt when they did. They were given the once over and two men started unpacking his bags.

"Hey." Akihito said, as they started pulling out his cameras. "Uh, do you have to do that?" like he could be understood at all. He certainly didn't want his translator to see his collection of BL mangas he brought with him. That would be…um….embarrassing.

"Shhh…don't say anything." His translator started talking quickly to the customs agent in some odd sounding language, well to Akihito it sounded odd. The men argued back and forth and gestured wildly. He noticed Shelly-san take out some money palming it in his hand. He then shook hands with the customs agent, and the money was gone. Again with the bribes! Didn't anyone do anything the legal way anymore? The customs agent smiled, no, it was still a sneer but you couldn't tell because he didn't have any teeth, and waved them through.

"Money talks, bullshit walks, as the saying goes." His translator explained. Shrugging, Akihito followed Keir to a large Range Rover with huge wheels. "Get on in; we will head to the office."

"I didn't have a chance to review the dossier, Shelly-san, sorry." Akihito said, hopping into the passenger seat of the Range Rover, which had a large NatGeo logo on the side and the letters IPA (International Press Association) in large letters. It identified them as members of the press. Not that anyone in Afghanistan respected the press, so it really didn't do much good.

"Call me Keir; you can drop the honorific, ok?"

"All right," he answered. "Please call me Akihito."

"Like the Emperor? Cool." He said, smiling broadly, showing a smile that it should star in a toothpaste commercial. "You didn't read the report? Shit. Well, you probably wouldn't have come if you had read it, it was rather…..subjective." The man started the car and drove away, almost hitting a guy on a bike, who swore at them, well, Akihito assumed he was swearing, as he was red faced and made funny gestures with his hands.

"I wouldn't miss this opportunity." Akihito replied. Actually he didn't have a choice. Asami had scared away all the local papers, so even with he flashed his puppy dog eyes, he still couldn't get work. So, it was either this job, or starve.

"I see. Well let's talk about culture shock. Rule number one, always stay in a group." He lectured.

"Uhh..ok." Akihito nodded. "Why?"

"Because you'll get kidnapped and killed if you aren't in a group, especially the way you look." The man looked at him and cocked his head.

"How do I look?" He asked, flicking his eyes in question.

"Vulnerable." He answered with a wink.

"I've been told that before." Akihito said, shrugging his shoulders. "I've been told many times." His friends even started calling him "Baby-faced Akihito." And of course, that asshole Asami found out about it and made him his own business cards with the new moniker. Another adjective to describe Asami: Belittling. Belittling pretentious crazy cheap bastard.

Keir shrugged. "Anyway, rule number two, don't go off the beaten track. There are land mines everywhere."

"Great." He said sarcastically.

"Rule number three, never talk about Fight Club."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, a little American humor." He said, apologetically.

"Oh."

"NatGeo will supply body armor, helmet and a gun to carry on you. Can you shoot?" He asked.

"Um, sort of." He knew how to hold a gun and take the safety off, but his aim was poor. Did he actually shoot that Russian guy, or did the man just fall down to make him feel better?

"Ok, no problem, hopefully you won't have to." He said. "You need some bribe money and some other supplies; you'll get those at the office."

"Thanks." Akihito was trying hard to ignore the crazy traffic. Keir didn't seem to be bothered by it, but Akihito felt like every car was out to hit them and there were so many potholes, his ass was taken a beating, and not in a good way. And why didn't the other vehicles pay attention to traffic lights? And why was he talking to himself like it would do any good? The other drivers can't hear you Akihito!

_Homesick already, Akihito? _He could almost hear Asami's baritone voice, the one accompanied by a self-satisfied smirk and the ring of smoke around his head like a demon's version of a halo.

He rubbed the dust out of his eyes and shook his head. Asami would laugh, no, _smirk_ his head off at his situation. Not that he thought that asshole would care, anyway. Right now, he was probably fucking that guy that had a name that sounded like dish soap, Sudsy? Sushu? Sudou, that was it.

"I'm more than your translator," Keir continued, shaking Akihito out of his thoughts of home. "I'm also the lead researcher on the Snow Leopard project." He was a jack of all trades, and judging by his self-confidence excelled at all of them. "I'm also your bodyguard."

"Bodyguard!" yelled Akihito. "Why do I need a bodyguard I don't need a babysitter! I'm not a little kid!" Even though he kind of looked like one.

He shrugged. "Orders, Akihito, don't worry so much; we are leaving this city and heading for the northern border tomorrow. The snow leopards are waiting for their close-up. We'll be far from civilization, where the worst thing that can happen is mosquitos the size of your fist." He informed his passenger. "They suck like vampires."

"Somehow I'm not comforted by that fact." Akihito coughed at the dust in his throat.

"Ha ha. You're funny." He laughed.

"Ummm..thanks?" Akihito held onto the edge of his seat, white knuckled as the cars and buses whizzed by them, honking loudly. Keir seemed so confident, something he knew he lacked. He was sure about only one thing in his life, his photography and eating. Again, he was feeling sorry for himself and sighed loudly at all the things he wasn't good at, which seemed to be a lot.

"Hey Akihito." Keir's voice startled him from his rather depressing thoughts. "You awake?" Akihito nodded.

"Sorry, lost in thought." Akihito apologized.

"Thinking about your girlfriend?" He asked.

"Umm…..actually no, I don't have a girlfriend." He shook his head and stared out the window, he definitely didn't want to talk about it.

"Oh? There's no lover that's going to be worried about you?" Keir asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No. I just got dumped not that long ago." Akihito frowned. Bastard.

"Stings don't it." Akihito nodded. "Anyway, I was saying that there are laws that you don't have in Japan. Pork and alcohol is taboo, so is sexual relations with anyone if you're unmarried. You can get killed for that here. So don't go messing with the local girls, not that there will be any where we're going. Just you, me and our guide." He said with a wink.

"Good to know." Well, lucky for him he had no interest in girls; yes he had finally admitted he was gay to his friends, actually he had no choice because they figured it out when he couldn't stop blushing every time someone mentioned the "A" word, as in Asami. Yikes, he was thinking of that bastard a lot.

"How long have you been in Afghanistan? You seem pretty familiar with how things work." Akihito asked, trying to focus on other things than a failed "relationship" with that perverted Yakuza bastard.

"One crazy year." He answered. "I'm working on research right now. It's so booring in the lab." He said a little gleam in his eye. "I'm looking forward to being in the field again, reminds me of boot camp."

"You were in the military?" He asked.

"Yeah, the Marines: the few, the proud, the utterly insane." He said, beaming that smile that could rival a lighthouse. "Anyway we're here." They pulled up to a non-descript building and went inside.

_No turning back now, Akihito, I will see it through to the very end even if it kills me._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Make it clear that failure will not be tolerated." Asami spoke sharply into the phone and then clicked it off, tossing it onto the desk with a loud clatter. Maybe punishing his phone would make him feel better. Nope, it didn't.

"Trouble?" Kirishima asked, as he crossed to the desk with some files. Always handy with the paperwork, as if he, Kirishima, was a tree and gave birth to paper when Asami wasn't looking.

"Hmmm…it seems the new laws are beginning to make the men panic. Companies are getting braver at turning away our not so subtle requests for compliance." He took a deep drag on his cigarette, coughing after he did so. "Two ships were seized this morning as well. All the cargo was confiscated. If mistakes were made, if someone talks, the cargo may be traced back to our operations." He really hated it when people made mistakes. It was the number one way to lose a pinky. Then you couldn't pinky swear anymore.

"Unfortunate." The boss had developed a slight cough, and he wheezed during their morning workouts (yes, he did workout). He would have to get Asami checked out by a doctor as soon as he could, that is, if the stubborn man would go, and he probably wouldn't, unless he blackmailed him. Maybe he would show the men Asami's cute little baby photos. So chubby cheeked!

"It seems the law has given the police a backbone." He said pointblank. Obviously, they didn't have one before. "We need to rethink how we do business, Kirishima." Now, Asami had to put more thought into how he ran his business, and it made him cranky.

"Orders, Asami-Sama?" He asked, waiting for something to do, as he Kirishima was so bored, he was now playing Words with Friends with Feilong.

"Move all liquid assets to off-shore accounts. Close all Japanese bank accounts. The police will try to freeze them. Have all property transferred to new fictitious names. Sell all non-profitable properties and give the money to charity, then take a write-off. Transfer all control of profitable properties to a false front." Asami spoke quickly, only pausing briefly to take a drag on his cigarette. "Discontinue hiring for the time being, I don't want any new staff at this time. If anyone is close to retirement, offer a large settlement and _gently persuade_ them to consider taking it early. I want to clean house. Did you get all that?" He took a deep breath and coughed slightly then cleared his throat. Asami had talked too much and now he needed a throat lozenge with a whiskey chaser.

"Of course I did. Anything else?" He said, trying to cover the pregnant pause, watching Asami's wheels turn in his head. Well, not literally, but he could see his boss was in Super-Asami Genius Mode, which meant Kirishima would be pulling all nighters….er…in their case all-dayers for a while.

"Sell my building downtown. Take a loss if we have to. It's time we make a move. We'll hole up in the safe house, for now." He didn't know why they called it a safe house. It wasn't a safe, and it was more of a 2LDK rather than a house. But it had neat gun holes and bullet proof glass, excellent for those nights when you wanted to stare out the window without worrying about being taken out by a sniper.

He took another slow drag of his cigarette, clearing his throat as he did so. "And Kirishima, start shredding, we're going back underground. Their noose is getting too tight around my neck." To make his point, he pulled at his silk tie and took it off. He was going to become invisible. He was the one going into a cage.

"I will carry out your orders." Kirishima bowed as he left.

_A caged lion was an angry lion. And soon, this angry lion was going to see blood._

XXXVFXXX

Akihito was running, and fast, sprinting over boulders. The camera bag bumped against his back as he ran. The gun in its holster hit his thigh. He would have bruises tomorrow, and not the fun kind of bruises. "Keir! The camera trap went off!" He yelled.

"What?" called Keir from his tent, "let's go!" He grabbed another camera and tripod and ran after Akihito, who seemed to have sprouted gazelle's legs as he hopped over boulders in one jump.

"Dammit." Akihito said in English. "I'm never in the right place when the trap goes off." He said through his panting breath. He was either in the wrong place at the right time, or the right place at the wrong time. He was never in two places at once, because that was physically impossible. Of course, Akihito had never studied physics.

_It's like the Snow Leopards are playing cat and mouse with me, and I'm the little itty bitty mouse._

Two months ago, they arrived at the Whakan Corridor with the help of a local guide, Topkay. The Whakan Corridor is a small strip of land between Afghanistan and China, the last refuge of the snow leopards in the country. A lot depended on the success of "this mission," as Keir called it. Conservation groups, scientists and naturalists were all interested in his photos and Keir's research. Getting the right shot would also make his career. He could write his own ticket in the world of photojournalism, if the snow leopards would just give him a break. And so far, they weren't. Stubborn cats. Maybe if he used catnip he would have more luck.

_Here kitty kitty._

"Ewwww, it stinks." Akihito whispered. There was a heavy stench of urine. It was more acidic then human urine; it was the smell of cat territorial markings. Akihito had come to recognize that scent. It meant his goal was close. But still, it was the nastiest smell, rivaling the stench that came from the restroom at Shibuya station.

Akihito changed lenses and moved slightly. He took a breath and held it when he heard a twig snap. They were on top of the big cats. He could hear the growling and hissing as the two animals fought for dominance. It reminded him of Asami and Feilong a little. Two great cats at each other's throats, battling over….well, him.

_Concentrate Akihito, forget Asami. Get the shot._

He moved again, trying to make no sound as he did, although he let out a small grown when he scraped his knee against a rock. Too bad Asami wasn't around to kiss it and make it better, not that he would. He would probably lick his wound and then do something perverted with his ass after that. Another adjective to describe Asami: Perverted. Perverted belittling pretentious crazy cheap bastard.

_Get the shot._

Stretching over the large boulder, he was shocked to find the cats at each other, locked in battle. It was like watching a live action version Mortal Combat, except with more fur. The cats were close, less than 30 meters away. They danced together, a deadly dance that is, as their beautiful coats rippled as the muscles moved underneath. The smaller male was panting heavily but he wasn't going to back down. Akihito started shooting, the camera silently snapping photo after photo. Akihito was running out of air, he had been holding his breath, to keep the camera steady. A fight between two snow leopard males had never been photographed before. He smiled inwardly, seeing little Yen signs floating before his eyes at his stroke of luck.

Suddenly, it was over, as quickly as it started, which was typical since cats have short attention spans. Akihito took a deep breath, waiting to see what big cat was going to do to the loser. But he just stood there, proudly, his muscles quivering from the tension. The losing cat crouched, seemingly in reverence, and padded silently down the hill. Akihito continued shooting. The winner turned to look at him and gave him a glare and slightly curled his lips in a snarl.

_Be a nice kitty and don't eat me please, I don't taste good._

Then the big cat ran off, ducking underneath the brush to mate with his prize. Boom-chicka-wow-wow. Akihito breathed a sigh of relief, inhaling deeply, his face flushed with excitement. He didn't even realize he was bleeding. He had bitten his lip while he was shooting and the blood ran red down his chin.

"Hey, you bit your lip." Keir said concern in his voice. He put down his notes he was taking of the battle and drew out a handkerchief. Always prepared, Keir was, like a Boy Scout.

"Bad habit," replied Akihito, checking the settings on his camera. He didn't care about his lip; he only cared about his camera and the precious photos inside. It was like Christmas, New Year's and his birthday all in one, except with less drinking.

"Here clean it up. The scent of blood attracts predators." Keir said. "Shit, it looks like it hurts. Are you ok?" He asked. His eyes, no, the whole aura around Keir starting sparkling. Well, maybe it didn't, but it looked that way to Akihito. Maybe he'd been in the bush to long; he's starting to see things.

"Yeah, it was worth it. I can't wait to see the shots. I think I got the one. The bigger male looked right at me. I swear I still have goose bumps." He said, still panting slightly from holding his breath. He was rather dizzy. The higher elevation didn't help, and this hot guy was standing there with a sparkling aura, and he was really horny and….and. . .he was losing it.

"Moving isn't it, to see an animal that close, and not through bars at the zoo." Keir stuck his hands in his pockets as he stood, watching the setting sun thoughtfully. "NatGeo is going to be very happy, I think."

"Yeah. Wow. I thought I was going to pass out, I held my breath for so long." He looked down at the screen on his camera. "Let's get these photos uplinked ASAP, I know they want it for the next issue."

"You need to rest a moment. You don't look well." Keir said still concerned. "You seem pale. Take some deep breaths." More sparkling. If Akihito didn't pull his head together, he'd start to see flowers floating around Keir's head next. Akihito horny vision activated!

"I'm fine, let's go back to camp." He said, standing up quickly. When he did, he felt overcome with dizziness. He held onto the camera for dear life, afraid he would drop it. Keir caught him and held him in his arms tightly, his breath moving the hairs on the back of Akihito's neck. His broad hands clutched at his chest, brushing his fingertips over his nipples. Akihito heard his heart beat loudly when he held him. _Thump thump. _He was sure Keir could hear it, it was that loud.

Akihito shivered from his touch. "I'm ok. Thanks." He said, as he pushed himself away. He was afraid of being so close to Keir. He was sure he was straight and not well, that way. They never talked much about personal stuff; it was always about work, or the culture of Afghanistan. Not that Akihito could bring up the topic anyway. _Hey, uh, are you gay? _He would probably turn beet red and then implode after that.

"Topkay said earlier that he had raksi to celebrate. He's been saving it. He got it when he went to Nepal." He said excitedly.

"Raski? What's that?" Akihito asked, trying not to look at Keir because now, Keir was sporting little cat's ears and a tail.

"It's like wine. Really strong wine, it will kick us off our asses." He smiled broadly.

"But, alcohol is banned," said Akihito. Now he was going to get drunk with this guy? This was torture! And not the kind with cuffs.

"The sale of it is taboo, but this is homebrew. And no one will find out. There's no one around that I know of. Don't worry about it. Some rules are made to be broken, you know." Keir said with a wink.

"Ok, just a little." stated Akihito. A little to Akihito was the whole damned bottle.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Asami smoked his cigarette very slowly, savoring the flavor as he viewed the Tokyo skyline in the distance. He'd been living at the safe house, which wasn't that bad, if you could ignore the noise, the annoying neighbors, the décor and the building itself. Ok, it was bad, as bad as it could get and still be useful. Why he felt the need to be here instead of the penthouse, he wasn't sure of yet. Maybe the penthouse held too many memories for him. But that would be silly, because he was after all, not that kind of man.

All he desired, well, one of many desires, was to keep as low of a profile as possible, which was difficult, since he seemed to attract unwanted attention wherever he went. It was the curse of being so…well, noticeable among the throngs of average looking people of average height in their average looking suits, living their average lives.

_Being average was not for him._

So instead, he kept to himself, in his safe house, living a life where a thin line was drawn between monotony and madness, of boredom and cabin fever. And there was no cure, save a good blood feud or the promise of a turf takeover. What had he done for entertainment before? What had he done to amuse himself in the past? Only one thought came to mind, and that was of Akihito.

And before Akihito? He couldn't even remember, like he couldn't remember what he had for breakfast that morning, because it was one of those things you did automatically, like breathing or dreaming.

That morning, he'd been dreaming and been startled awake, with a large morning wood, by the thought of Akihito, riding his pole like a horse on a carousel, chanting his name in invocation and in such worshipfulness, he thought himself a god. And when he woke from his erotic dream, drenched in his own sticky mess, he was hoping it would be Akihito's face that he saw beside him. Instead, he was staring at an empty pillow, its fluffy nature mocking him with its freshly washed and never been used countenance.

_Damn pillow. I hate you pillow._

Akihito had been gone from his life for five months, and yet he still dreamed of him. But sometimes, sometimes...when he had those dark thoughts which invaded his subconscience, those dreams became nightmares.

So, he continued to stare in deep contemplation at the Tokyo skyline from his office window and smoked, and thought some more, and smoked some more, and thought some more, until there were no more thoughts to think anymore, or so he thought.

"Asami-sama." Kirishima came in, startled by Asami's lack of movement in the past hour. He had left him earlier where he was standing, and here he was, standing in the exact same spot, as if Medusa had descended and turned Asami to stone.

"Kirishima," Asami said, coughing a little as he took a slow drag on his coffin nailer. "Is there something bothering you?" He had noticed Kirishima's constant death glares, which burned like a laser through him anytime he coughed or pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. A bullet in the leg wasn't as bad as Kirishima's ire, once something crawled up his bum and died.

"You will go to the doctor, Asami-sama, this is not a request." He commanded.

"I just have a little cold." Asami said, sounding like a child who had been scolded. "And you sound like my mother."

"Your mother said to go to the doctor too. What do I have to do, threaten to quit? I will quit, Asami-sama. You know I will." Kirishima threatened.

"You're an extortionist, you know that. It's what I like about you." He said, smiling slightly.

"You can't manipulate me with flowery words, it won't work."

"Fine, make the arrangements. But when the doctor tells me I have a cough due to cold, you will be kissing my feet." He said, and there was that characteristic smirk.

"You're lucky you keep your feet snugly inside those Tanino Crisci shoes of yours, Asami-sama, or else everyone would see how nasty they really are." He teased, as only he could and live to tell the tale.

And so, Kirishima had won that battle and off to the doctors he went.

After a lengthy and very drawn out physical, in which the doctor announced he was healthy as a horse, a prize race horse to be exact, except…he had the beginnings of emphysema and if he didn't quit smoking, he would develop cancer. This news, from a doctor, who in fact announced his diagnosis with his own cancer stick hanging out of his mouth like he was Humphrey Bogart.

And Asami had laughed. Laughed in the face of uncertainty, because really, cancer was one of those things so small, so unnoticeable, and yet so very dangerous when overlooked. He did not fear death, obviously, his choice of professions made that clear, but the thought of losing his hair made him queasy. If he was to die, he wanted to leave a beautiful corpse. So no, cancer was not an option, and neither was failure.

He had been dared to quit. Double dog dared. And Asami, not being one to back down from a dare, rose to the challenge, going so far as to throw out all his lighters, filters and remaining cartons of cigarettes he had stashed everywhere, and they really were everywhere. Kirishima found cartons in his desk, under his bed, in the bathroom and under the couch, like he was hording them. It was like spring cleaning, a rather fucked up version of spring cleaning, as he piled boxes into the now overflowing dumpster. He was sure the local high school students will have cleared that treasure trove of trouble by morning's light. And Kirishima had been right, as usual.

Asami was going to miss smoking, though. It always put the fear in people he was interrogating, like they were worried about dying of second hand smoke, as if they would live that long after he was done with them.

The doctor had given him some medication to deal with the withdrawals, which he said he didn't need because he was, after all, Tough Guy-sama. But after a few days and a really bad case of the sweats, he caved and stuck on the ridiculous patches that looked like band-aids. For his oral fixation, and boy did he have a wicked oral fixation, he started chewing on flavored toothpicks. Cinnamon was his favorite. It reminded him of Akihito, who often sucked on cinnamon breath mints. It was like one of his kisses, spicy and sweet. Asami was getting sappy in his old age, reminiscing about kisses when there were people to push and paperwork to kill, or vice versa.

So after about 30 days of medication and a strict de-cleansing regiment consisting of Green Tea smoothies from the local juice bar, Asami considered himself an ex-smoker. But right at that moment, he had more pressing matters to deal with and he had no time to relish in his victory.

_Trouble was brewing._

"Hakatora Chikaza was fished out of Tokyo Bay yesterday, Asami-sama." Kirishima said, with a worried look. There was always a list of the "catch-of-the-day" in the paper and today's big catch was Hakatora.

Kirishima handed him the paper with the headline _Hakatora Murdered, Fear Rocks Diet._ When didn't fear rock the Diet? They were so afraid of the Yakuza now, since the passing of the Anti-Yakuza law, they jumped at their own shadows. When a law passes, someone must have the balls to enforce it. And quite a few Diet members were missing their balls, as well as other parts of their anatomy these days.

"Who ordered the hit?" He asked, scanning the article quickly. It was too early for the article to have much, but the words _Yakuza_ and _retaliation_ stuck out. The newspaper was already jumping to conclusions that Hakatora Chikaza's Anti-Yakuza law lead to the man's untimely death. The paper was probably right. He put it aside so he could do the crossword puzzle and read Dear Abby later.

"You did, according to rumors." Kirishima stated. "The police are going to be looking for you Asami-sama. We need to move again. Perhaps a trip abroad would be apropos? Paris is nice this time of year."

"We're not moving, and I'm not running. It will look like I'm guilty!" yelled Asami. "Why would I order a hit? He's nothing, although he did piss me off." Maybe he could dig up the body and kill him again, just to vent his frustration.

Kirishima nodded. He knew his boss wouldn't go anywhere, but he had to make the suggestion nonetheless. "I understand, Asami-sama."

"Akihito's photos of the bribe, we still have them?" He asked his right-hand man.

"Yes, I kept them. I thought they might be valuable someday." He explained. He didn't tell Asami that he had a rather large scrapbook of Akihito's photos. The shots of Asami sleeping with stuffed animals were particularly….fetching, and good blackmail material should the need arise. He did his best imitation of an evil grin at the thought.

"Good thinking. If I'm arrested, make sure to get them to my lawyer. It could be very useful in my defense." He stated.

"Additional orders?" asked Kirishima.

Asami flicked his badly chewed toothpick into the trash. "I want to know who took out Hakatora, and I want to know yesterday." He commanded with a fire in his eyes that Kirishima hadn't seen in a while.

He poured himself a drink. "You're still keeping tabs on Akihito." It was a statement not a question.

"Yes, Asami-sama." He replied. He was always keeping tabs on someone, whatever tabs entailed.

"Continue to do so." He downed his drink in one swallow and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then went to pour himself another. "I almost wish….."

"Wish? Asami-sama?" He asked in confusion. Asami-sama had never wished for anything. There was no Godmother in their world ready to grant favors with a poof of her wand. There was only a fucked-up sadistic Godfather, and his name was Asami. So if a wish was to be granted, he would have to take care of it himself.

"Never mind." He said as he downed the drink in one gulp.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Akihito was laughing, a good sound, a sound he hadn't made it awhile. With undertones of merriment and amusement and something else, perhaps pure glee, his laughter rose to the heavens as if asking Bacchus to bless him and his joviality. And his noise, which sounded like fireworks going off in the silence that was the nothingness of their camp, made the animals freeze, sensing some doom that was never to come. And when he stopped laughing, only to take a gulp of his amber colored beverage, the animals restarted their nocturnal noise, grateful that said clamor was silent once again.

So, as Keir translated the jokes that Topkay, their Afghani caretaker, was relating to his two wasted companions, Akihito realized the jokes weren't that funny. He couldn't put his finger on it, as his finger was occupied digging wax out of his ear, but the jokes were missing something, mainly a punch line. But still, like a court jester or the town drunk….er…..fool, Akihito laughed anyway, until he was rolling on the ground, adding dirt, leaves and bugs to his already dirty black and blond hair like sprinkles on a cupcake.

_He didn't care whatsoever, too far gone to care._

"Whaa is tish stufft." Akihito slurred, through his laughter, shaking the bota bag around.

"Don't spill it, this is all we have," stated Keir, rescuing the bag from him.

Topkay chuckled at Akihito and bid the two a soft goodnight as he staggered off to his tent to enjoy his nice warm buzz. He was an early riser as his job requirements included making breakfast for those yahoos who only woke up if they smelled coffee. So he required his beauty sleep, as when dawn came, he knew his camping buddies would need some help greeting the sun after this night of drunken jocularity. So off to bed he went.

Now Akihito and Keir were alone. Except for the giant mosquitos, who buzzed around their heads like…..you know…..mosquitos.

"Your turn to tell some jokes, Akihito," asked Keir. "I don't know any good ones."

"I donna know 'ny either," He shrugged, almost knocking himself over with the exaggerated movements. His body felt boneless, so when he moved, he felt fluid like a ballet dancer, as if all his nerves had decided to leave his body and play elsewhere.

"Well, we're two lame guys with nothing else to do, then. Uh….how about twenty questions? " He asked obviously buzzed by his glassy gaze, but still coherent enough to think of things like social interaction.

"Pshhh…no way." He started giggling for no reason, or perhaps the reason was lost to all outsiders who have at this junction remained partially sober, or not.

"Ok, truth or dare." He said, grinning mischievously.

"Are you twelves?" He said, snorting loudly, sounding like a cross between a pig and a goat, or some kind of hybrid species that would make even Darwin chuckle in its impracticality.

"Com'on," slurred Keir. "Make me laugh, Akihito." Keir was also drunk, and yet could still speak perfect Japanese. Was he actually Japanese in a previous life? Was his previous incarnation a tough, street-wise, fast-talking ronin whose story had yet to unfold, but you already knew how it ended because all Edo period dramas ended that way? It was the only thing that made perfect sense in this their imperfect world.

But, Akihito was even drunker as it now appeared as if there were two Keirs, as if he had a twin. An evil twin for sure, because if he was a nice twin, he would be handing over the bota bag _right the fuck now_, instead of hording it like Golum and his precious ring.

"M'kay twenty questions." He sighed and snatched the bota bag from Keir and took a long drink, feeling his stomach churn with warmth. "You go first, cuz, I'm all right."

"What?" Keir asked, his head tilting like a confused dog.

And then Keir was twinkling, only now it was two twinkling Keirs winking at him with a sudden feral look in his blue-grey eyes which reflected orange in the firelight, like a cat. "That'sss one ques..one question, you sucks at this." He shivered slightly, feeling the heat in his belly steal the warmth from his skin. His butt was freezing from the cold ground and yet he didn't want to move because the earth was spinning like a carnival ride. And he hadn't as of yet bought tickets.

"Are you cold, Akihito?" Keir asked, and not waiting for answer, scooted over and threw a rather large and warm arm around Akihito's shoulder. Keir was almost as big as the Incredible Hulk, well, compared to Akihito he was, except Keir lacked a uni-brow and never seemed to get angry.

"Two questions." He said, holding up one finger, and then realizing his mistake, held up another.

"Are you the questions police?" Keir asked, chuckling slightly at his own attempt at some kind of lame joke. If it had been any lamer, he'd need a crutch.

"Weeoooo weeoooooo weeooo." Akihito did his best to mimic a police siren, and then erupted into giggles, his body shaking, feeling so high and so good from the liquor, the endorphins, the satisfaction of a job well done, that to add anything else to this feeling would be overkill. "Three que…questions."

"You're so cute, did you know that?" Keir just sat, unmoving, staring at the stars, his arm around Akihito, protective and warm, so very warm. This revelation of his seemed lost on his companion.

"Four questions." He stated and laid his head on Keir's shoulder, suddenly very dizzy, or drunk, or dizzily drunk. Either way, there was definitely something wrong with his head. "And I'm not so cute, Keir-chan…Keir-chan, I stink." He mumbled into Keir's shirt, smelling the man's musk, which was tinged with the smell of burnt wood from their campfire, the smell of a man in sync with nature or at least, on good terms with it. Or, you could also say, they both reeked. That was probably closer to the truth.

"Can I kiss you then, not so cute Akihito?" Keir lowered his voice to a whisper and it came out rumbling and sounding beyond aroused in Akihito's ear, as if Keir had said a magic spell, turning Akihito into jelly in his warm and comforting embrace.

"Five…" Akihito wasn't given time to complete his sentence before his lips were smothered by Keir's. It wasn't tentative, slow or hesitant, like first kisses usually were, it was deep and passionate, as if they had been kissing this way all along in their dreams and just now had gotten around to do the real thing.

Immediately, Akihito could feel a wave of pleasure down into his crotch. It was instantaneous because a) he was a guy and b) he was horny and c) uh, he forgot what 'c' was, because now Keir had moved onto his neck, sucking on his pulse point until he felt Keir's warm drool dripping down underneath his shirt. Multiple choice questions were hard. And so was Akihito.

_It was wet, so wet._

"Akihito, you're driving me crazy." He whispered panting like a swimmer who'd been down under water too long. Keir leaned and pulled at Akihito so that they met in the middle, although Keir was and had been doing all the body manipulation thus far, seeing as Akihito's limbs seemed to have lost their ability to function.

So, Keir continued to kiss Akihito with more passion, if that was even possible, as if a typhoon had been unleashed on his unsuspecting mouth. Akihito could feel himself responding, opening his mouth to allow Keir's tongue inside.

_Come on in, Keir's tongue. _

But, it was if he was on automatic pilot, really. In his drunken state, he still tried to push away, in a half-hearted attempt to feign hard-to-get as was his usual modus operandi, but Keir was so much stronger than him. Actually, he probably could have pushed him away, but he was really horny, so he didn't try very hard. If Akihito could get more turned on at this juncture he'd be a light bulb.

"Please, Akihito….let me…touch you." He begged, pulling at Akihito gently and right into his perfect lap, as if made to fit Akihito's perfect little body. Akihito let out a small squeak, a mouse caught in Keir's trap.

"Wha.." Suddenly a little more sober, but not by much, Akihito realized the position he was in, as in Keir's lap. And he wondered how he had gotten here and how this had all started as if it mattered at all.

"I just want to kiss you, feel you." Keir whispered softly, sounding like a purring cat. He'd been hanging around a lot of cats lately. Akihito was drowning in his words. Luckily, he was already getting mouth to mouth. Keir was so gentle, his hands light on his chest, ghosting over his nipples, entwined in his two-toned hair. Tears threated to spill over Akihito's eyes as this beautiful man touched him slowly, mapping out his body, finding the places that fueled his desire, which was right around his cock, if you read the map right. "You're so beautiful." Keir said, and nipped behind Akihito's ear, his sensitive spot.

"Mnnnnn." Akihito let out his first tiny whimper. Well to him it was a whimper, like a little puppy's voice, but to others it was downright loud.

"Shhhh….our little chaperone is a light sleeper." He warned. "We'll continue this somewhere else, ok?"

"I need help up too drunk I think no it's more my legs they won't move and this is bad are we going somewhere where are we going?" And after that rather incoherent jumble of words, Akihito found it hard to breathe.

"Hahaha. I think I understood half of that. I'll help you up." And Akihito was lifted, by the Incredible Hulk, into his arms and carried, not like a girl, thank Kami for that, but as one would carry a large sack of rice, over Keir's rather broad shoulder.

It felt like one of those tired old romantic clichés, like they were the only two people in the world now, as Keir laid him gently down in the backseat of the car, grateful for the cargo capacity and extra seats in Keir's custom Range Rover. Anyway, why was he thinking of the car's features when Keir was looking at him with such lust, with such wildness that he feared he would be eaten?

And then the dome light in the car went off, and they were immersed in blackness once again.

"Akihito, I just want to take it slow, ok? I don't want to hurt you." He whispered in his ear.

"Huh?" Keir's words finally flicked the switch, and Akihito realized where he was, in his crush's arms, being whispered to with sweet nothings that almost seemed surreal. Akihito realized he wanted to be swept away, wanted Keir to confess in his ear his undying devotion, wanted someone to love him without the pain and without the mind fuckery that went along with the man that was Asami.

_I'm letting the memories fade, Asami. I have to let them go._

And it was with that declaration to himself that he pulled Keir closer and wrapped his arms around his strong back. Well, as around as he could. The man was an ox.

"Mmm….this is nice." Keir said, as he found Akihito's lips again, making Akihito start to lose his mind, and frankly he hoped he'd never find it again. His face was getting warmer, feeling like he'd been sunburned. Maybe because he was, or the anti-blushing serum never worked like they said it would.

Akihito arched his groin against Keir's, enjoying the feeling of his now straining hard cock rubbing against Keir's jeans, the friction burned and he desperately wanted to feel everything the other man had to offer, which according to the huge tent in Keir's pants, there was a lot to offer. Emphasize on a lot. He hesitated a moment before palming Keir's erection, carefully and slowly unbuttoning Keir's jeans to setting his trapped erection free.

"Akihito," He whispered, "Slow down." He grabbed Akihito's hands and pinned them above his head, while using the other hand to pull up Akihito's shirt. Keir sucked at his neck noisily, almost masking Akihito's building pants and moans, before moving onto his nipples. His weakness, well one of many spots on his body, that when teased right made his knees weak and his eyes water in anticipation. And this was one of those times. The man was a skilled multitasker.

In defiance of Keir's earlier order, Akihito started peeling off his clothing and throwing them haphazardly, like it was laundry day. "I want to feel you too Keir." He stated, Akihito's voice sounding a little more coherent.

"I wish I could see you." He said, his hands slowly gliding over Akihito's shoulders, chest and abs. He trailed lower and lower, teasing him with his light touch over his cock, which was now at full attention. "But I can feel the heat coming off of you, am I making you hot?"

"Yesssss….." It came out like a snake, or at least how a snake would talk if it had been given the power of speech. "So hot, but….."

"But...what Akihito? Do you want to stop?" He sounded so disappointed.

"I….we…..don't have you know…stuff." Akihito whispered. Stuff to him was lube and condoms, because you know that whole safe sex thing is rather important, even though it is a mood killer.

"I don't plan to take it that far, ok? I'm not that kind of guy." He said, as he kissed Akihito again, tasting the alcohol from earlier in his mouth. Their tongues battled while Keir teased Akihito's cock, stroking it softly, slowly, tormenting Akihito's slit with his thumb. His hands were calloused, rough, the hands of a working man. And it felt fantastic.

"Ohhhhh….uh….what…..what….kind of guy are you?" Akihito moaned, while feeling Keir's lips going lower and lower still, making a saliva trail down his front, only to hover over his member like a helicopter, his warm breath making it twitch in anticipation.

"A sappy guy, I guess." He stated, and Akihito's cock was taken into Keir's waiting mouth.

"NNn..Keir..." He whimpered loudly, grateful that no one could hear him. He could be as loud and as wonton as he wanted as he felt Keir's tongue skillfully take him in his so wet and so warm mouth. Not one part of his cock was left unexplored. "Please, I can't….it's been a long time." He said breathlessly, suddenly aware that Keir's skillful mouth was taking him so close to his release, and he didn't want it to be over so soon. "Please…..stop..." He begged loudly, his hands clenching at Keir's hair, in an attempt to push him off of him, or pull him closer, he wasn't sure.

"No," snapped Keir, and the reverberation of his deep timber sent Akihito's arousal into overdrive.

"Keir please….I'm..gonna….cumm…" He warned and his head fell back, hitting his camera case behind him, although it didn't register at all as he spilled into Keir's eagerly sucking mouth. All he could see was white, and all he could feel was bliss. He wanted to hold onto it, but it felt like sand running through his fingers, that feeling when there is no pain, no thoughts, and no worries, a temporary bliss.

There was a moment of silence, well, more than a moment, because it kept dragging on.

"Akihito." Silence.

"Akihito." More Silence.

"AKIHITO!" Snoring.

He sighed loudly. "It can't be helped." Keir shrugged and threw his jacket over Akihito before kissing him lightly on the cheek and settling down next to him. Akihito didn't stir.


	9. Chapter 9

_Note: Torture._

Chapter 9

"Asami." Everyone's favorite crime lord...or businessman depending on who you talk to, Asami Ryuichi answered his phone on the first ring, anticipating good news, or at least some kind of news, from his band of not-so-merry men.

"_Asami-sama, it's Akira. I have someone here who wants to speak with you, personally."_

"Oh? What does this person have to tell me?" He was really irritated because he already put on his pajamas and had just sat down to watch _The Mentalist_ and have some shrimp chips, and he really didn't want to go out.

"_He has some news he's dying to tell you. Looks like he can't wait, as he's taken something that doesn't agree with him, and I'm sure he'd like to be coherent when he talks to you."_

"He wants to talk to me personally? The guy has guts."

"_Not for long."_

"I'm on my way; put him on ice until I get there." They were going to need to run to the convenience store for more ice, and perhaps some Pocky and the latest issue of _Mobsters Monthly _since they were there anyway.

"_Understood, Asami-sama."_

Asami was greeted by a grinning Akira thirty minutes later, at the door of a non-descript industrial building, far from the prying eyes and ears of the public. The public did not take well to torture chambers in the neighborhood, it really dragged down property values.

"I love what you've done with the place." Asami said sarcastically, noting the chained up and badly bleeding figure hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the otherwise empty room, save for the flickering fluorescent light that caste pale ghostly shadows on the shape that looked like a man, but it was rather hard to tell at this point.

"I like my decorations to reflect the red period of Picasso's work." He replied, showing off his previous occupation as an art forger.

Asami smirked. "So what does your decoration have to say for itself, hmmm?" Asami stated crossing over to the man who flinched visibly when Asami flicked a toothpick into his mouth, like he had something to fear from the tiny piece of pointed wood. "You have something to share with the rest of the class?"

"Eat shit and die, Asami." The man said, and spat blood in Asami's general direction.

"So rude. Well, it's of no consequence. I dearly love seeing Akira at work; he's a master at what he does. However, I'm sure you're….dying…to find out what happens to a man's eye when," He pointed at his captive with the pointed end of his toothpick, "it's stabbed with one of these." The man's eyes visibly widened, as Asami came closer rolling the toothpick between his fingers. "I'm rather curious myself." He took two steps closer to the hanging man, who tried to struggle without success at his bonds.

"Should I give him another shot of truth serum, Asami-sama?" Akira asked, raising a large syringe filled with a whitish colored liquid. Holding it almost lovingly, as one would hold a child.

"I will concede to your expertise in this area, but I'm sure your little decoration…..will spill his guts… eventually. I think he realizes that either way we will get the information we want." He said menacingly.

"I suppose," countered Akira.

"If he is to die, he should die with a clear conscience. Don't you think?" He asked Akira, taking a few more steps to the wide-eyed captive in the middle of the room.

"That would be wise." Akira agreed.

"And then perhaps we can avoid all this unnecessary bloodshed….er….game playing." He said, taking another step closer. A master the art of psychological manipulation, Asami was enjoying his little game of mental cat-and-mouse.

"I like the way you think, Asami-sama."

"So, decoration…you don't mind me calling you that?" He said gently. "Perhaps I should call you Decoration-san? That would be most proper, wouldn't it?" He asked, his voice coming out thick and mocking.

"Just get it over with. I'm not a rat, asshole." The man muttered angrily.

"Fufu. Such impolite speech. This isn't up for negotiation, you can either die painfully or….just die. " He warned, with contempt.

"The one who is going to die, is you, Asami." The man spat.

"And that is supposed to scare me? Perhaps I should call you newbie-kun instead. You know, I didn't get into this profession for my health." He replied.

"You are the fall guy, Asami." He stated bluntly.

"Now we're getting somewhere. I know you killed Hakatora, I know you're the assassin. Who ordered the hit?" He said angrily, taking two more steps toward their captive.

"Go fuck yourself." He uttered.

"I would if I could, at least it would be a good lay." He turned to Akira and ordered, "Hold his head still."

"You know the eyes are the windows to the soul." He said, as he came closer to the man, who all of a sudden decided that peeing in his pants would be in order here. "I'm wondering if when removing one's eye, you would get a glimpse at that elusive soul. I suppose that in your case, you sold your soul to the devil at some point? So if I were to remove those brown eyes would there even be a soul to see?" He leaned over the man and held his right eye open with his fingers. The toothpick in Asami's hands came closer to the man's open eye, which was now tearing. "So, I was wondering, Decoration-san, why I came all the way down here to listen to your expletive banter?"

The man's mouth started quivering, as the toothpick came closer. He tried to pull away, to move his head, to blink, just to keep from staring at the pointed end of Asami's toothpick. Asami lowered the toothpick closer and closer to the man's weaping eye.

_Suddenly there was a sickening pop, as if someone had opened a can of soda._

The man screamed to the heavens, although knowing that there would be no angel to save him, unless it was the Angel of Death. The man panted heavily as his whole body shook uncontrollably. Bloody tears ran down his already battered and bruised face, given him the appearance of a zombie in a horror movie.

"Oops, I broke my toothpick." He pulled back from the man's whimpering face. "Well, you'll have a reason to wear an eye patch. All the ladies go for the pirate look these days." He chuckled.

"I'll talk, just…just…don't..." The man started drooling as the blood ran into his mouth, his breath making blood bubbles in front of his nose.

"Then talk, I have all night. Really, although, I don't think you do." He said. "Give him a shot of adrenaline." He ordered, and pulled back as Akira administered the shot. The man stilled, his breathing became a little calmer and he raised his head, the partially broken toothpick evident in his right eye, making it difficult for him to blink. "So talk."

"Oyabun* ordered the hit, and for you to be the fall guy. It was all a setup." The man spit blood on the concrete floor, making splattered patterns that in the right light looked almost expressionistic. "Oyabun said," the man chuckled, slightly more from madness that from humor, "that you are a nail that needs to be hammered down."

Asami narrowed his eyes as pure anger swept over his face, an expression you didn't want to see if you were on the wrong side of it. "If I release you, I will have done you no favors, seeing as how an assassin with one eye is of no use to anyone. But I will anyway." He took out another toothpick and the man flinched. "Someday, you will return this favor to me. Understood?"

The man nodded.

"What?" He said with authority.

"Yes, I understand."

"I should have killed you, and I may still if we cross paths again." Asami warned. He hated assassins. They always acted so smug, as if killing someone from a far distance was something to be proud of. When he killed, he made sure his face was the last one his victim would ever see. So yeah, he held no love for assassins, not that he had love for anyone, but assassins were not much more than cowards in his book of death.

"Akira, clean him up and see to his eye, pay all necessary hospital bills," Asami ordered, as if suddenly he was a philanthropic goody two-shoes. "I'm only using you as a messenger, assassin. Tell Oyabun that I refuse to take the walk of shame. I will be no one's pawn." He said coldly, before walking out, slamming the metal door loudly behind him.

* A little note here, Oyabun is the top dog in the Yakuza world. As we are unsure which syndicate Asami belongs to, or if he is indeed Yakuza at all, I've left it vague. Obayun means "family boss" and would order such things as hits. Often a "fall guy" is ordered to go to prison to protect higher bosses. I do not believe that Asami is an Oyabun but Yamano-sensei has kept his true position in the underworld a mystery.


	10. Chapter 10

*** Well, I'm not really happy with this chapter. But anyway. Movin' the story along.**

**Chapter 10**

Akihito woke, to a sound he was unfortunately all too familiar with, the loading and cocking of a gun, which sounded loud and echoed off the walls of wherever he was now. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure where that was, as his situational awareness that should come with consciousness had not awakened as of yet. Either that or he was just clueless to begin with.

So in his rather dreamlike state, he heard the sharp _click click_ of the gun's parts sliding against each other, and hoped he was dreaming. Dreaming about guns? Dr. Freud would have had a field-day analyzing Akihito's trauma induced nightmares, that's for sure.

So, in the light leaking into his tightly closed eyes, because he had yet to open them which was what you usually did in the morning, reality hit him. With a fist of fury. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. And if only he just kept his eyes closed, he wouldn't have to face this feeling of wrongness, wouldn't have to greet the darkness that was to come, a darkness that pricked at his skin and made his nerves wind up tight.

_It was always darkest, right before things went pitch black._

"Keir," he mumbled, aware of the thickness of his salvia, the cotton that seemed to fill his mouth like he'd just been to the dentist. Rising up quickly, in his weird and rather hung over state, he promptly bashed his head on the ceiling of the Range Rover. "Shit!" Akihito swore, suddenly realizing he was not in his tent, although he was realizing it about thirty seconds too late.

"Shhhh." Keir warned. "We have company." Unfortunately, it wasn't the type of company you would have over for tea and a round of Mahjong and most certainly, not the dropping by for a cup of sugar kind of company either.

"Is….." He started to say something, while rubbing the bump on his head that he imagined was there, and fell silent as his state of confusion had obviously affected his power of speech as well.

"Keep down." Keir warned. "They might not be friendly." And that was the understatement of the year. He looked over quickly to Akihito, his eyes glowing with a fierceness that Akihito didn't know he could make. Scary.

"Get dressed, put on your flak jacket, but be quiet about it." He commanded, with the authority of a superior officer that when you crossed him he would instruct you to drop and give him twenty. And Akihito obeyed, without question, for once, perhaps realizing that going into a gunfight naked wouldn't be sensible.

"Where's Topkay?" He asked.

"I don't know, hopefully safe. He's pretty sharp."

"You and me, last night….uh.…." He started to ask, but the moment wasn't really the best time to ask, but then again, Akihito always had poor timing.

"I wanted to kiss you awake, my sleeping beauty, but my plans got derailed." He said, and it should have sounded romantic, but strangely, it only sounded…

"Sappy." He stated.

"Yeah." Keir replied, the word coming out of his mouth in four syllables.

"I think I like sappy." Akihito said bluntly.

"I'll remember that."

But the witty and slightly romantic banter, well, in Akihito's book of twisted romance it was romantic, was cut short by men yelling incoherently and loud gunshots. Of course, gunshots were always loud, but these were particularly loud, making the Range Rover buckle slightly from the reverberation, as if a shock wave had hit it.

Obviously, things had turned ugly. Old crone with the haggard face ugly.

"They found Topkay." He commented, without emotion. "Shit, where are those whirly-birds when we need them?"

"Is help coming?" Akihito asked, as he risked a peek, just at the wrong time. Topkay was on his knees, a gun at the back of his head, and a second later, or even less, there was one shot, and Topkay was on the ground, blood pooling around a wound in his head. Akihito sucked in his breath and his eyes started watering. What he had seen, will forever be burned into his eyes. "Topkay's…."

"We gotta go, now!" yelled Keir in a commanding voice that even the animals would obey.

"But….Topkay, we should….." He started to argue, but thought better of it and closed his mouth before he could finish his sentence. Sometimes, it would do not to argue, and this was one of those times.

"He's dead and we're next." He sprang into the front seat with the agility of a panther and quickly gunned the engine as Akihito flopped; butt in the air, into the front seat, his gun now at his side, cocked and ready. Keir's Boy Scout skills had rubbed off on him.

He had seen men shot before; he'd seen men die before. He'd been beside them when they breathed their last. But those men had been his enemies, those men he didn't care anything about, didn't even know their names. This one….this man, he had called his friend. He tried to hold back the sob that was bubbling at the back of his throat. Tried and failed.

"Hold it together Akihito." Keir chastised as he sped over the well-worn road. It was difficult so see, as if they were driving into a fog made of dust. "Dammit, they caught up to us."

In the side mirror, he could see the bad guys, as he chose to call them, because they hadn't introduced themselves, closing the space between them. They had guns, lots of guns, and not just guns, heavy weapons as well, as if they were compensating for something. They started firing wildly at them, but the shots bounced off the bullet-proof glass, making sharp pinging sounds, sounding like laser fire in a sci-fi movie. Still Akihito ducked instinctively.

"Help is coming, I just hope…" Keir started to say, but stopped when Akihito took of the safety off his gun and rolled down the window.

"What are you doing? You'll just piss them off if you shoot!"

"Huh?" Akihito turned to Keir with wide eyes. "I can shoot; you know I can, Keir. I have to do something!"

"The something you need to do is not panic. Think, Akihito, we can't out shoot them, but we can outrun them."

"Fine." He said, sounding like scolded child.

Keir actually chuckled. "I wish we had some getaway music." He mused.

"Don't try to distract me."

"You're sharp."

They continued to run, the bad guys continued to chase. And shoot. It was so loud. Akihito's ears were ringing, as if his cell phone was going off in his ears with one of those annoying ringtones.

"Stop shooting at us assholes!" Like he could be heard over the noise. He put his hands over his ears, but it didn't help much, and that's when it hit. Or rather, they hit something.

A powerful blast rocked the car, setting off the airbag which felt like a thousand punches to the face, all at once. His head hurt so bad, he thought it would explode. The rover rocked violently as Keir tried to take control of the steering wheel, but it wasn't responding. He was so scared, he could feel his heartbeat in his ears, but couldn't hear anything. The rover tumbled several times, as the dust flew around them, making Akihito unable to see. He was blind and deaf, unsure of what to do. He couldn't even see Keir in all the dust and smoke.

"Keir!" He yelled, but couldn't seem to hear any sound coming from his lips. He felt the vibration of the car as it skidded, sending rocks into the cabin from the broken windshield, hitting him in the face and arms. The smell of blood invaded his nostrils as he felt it run down his face. "KEIR!" He said louder, as if he kept saying it, he would get an answer. He tried to reach out, tried to feel Keir next to him, but could only feel empty space. Where was Keir?

The car came to a stop; actually it didn't have anywhere to go, as it careened into a tree. Crushing the side and trapping Akihito's leg. Something wet dripped around him, gasoline, from the smell. He coughed, trying to get rid of the dust. It was so quiet, as if the world had come to an end and someone forgot to tell him, or he was dead, and this was what hell was like. A quiet empty lifeless void.

"KEIR!" He yelled again. "Keir, help..I'm in…" He stopped when he started coughing again.

Pain. And all Akihito could feel was pain, making all other senses duller as if fading in the background. He resisted the urge to throw up. Something was wrong with his head. Pain, every time he breathed, every time he tried to move just a little bit. He thought he knew what pain was. He was wrong. There was no way to describe this, except maybe the word agony.

He turned his head, hoping to see Keir's face, but it wasn't there. Where he should have been was broken glass. Blinded by blood in his eyes, his brain tried to think coherently, but failed as the pain multiplied anytime he moved. He tried to get his foot out, but when he did, more pain tormented his body, making him shiver and cry out. He was trapped. He clutched feebly at the gun at his side, in a half-hearted attempt to protect himself, but the gun dropped out of his weak hand and he shivered again, knowing he was going into shock.

"Keir." He groaned, but couldn't hear himself speak. Akihito raised a hand to his ear, tapping it slightly. The ringing in his ears wouldn't go away. "Keir." He said again, and he knew from the vibration in his throat he was saying something, but he couldn't hear it.

And then he was thinking of Asami. He would come. He would pull him out of the car and make him well again. Hold him until he stopped shivering. He would…he would save him, again. Just like that time. "Asami." He said, trying to hold onto consciousness. Akihito could feel his body slowly lose itself to the pain. He was cold, his breathing erratic, but Asami was coming. Asami would make everything all right. He was sure of it.

_You know I would come to get you, right?_

He closed his eyes, willing the pain to go away, but it was of no use. Akihito began to lose whatever was left of his confused reality as the darkness took him.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

*Updated, because the ending was to OOC for Asami. Hope this is better.

Asami observed the throng of impeccably dressed and stunningly beautiful people saunter into Club Sion. Their faces so wooden, maybe more from Botox than from boredom, that they could be mistaken for mannequins, if they didn't occasionally blink. As they sipped their golden colored bubbly beverages on this, a special night, Asami narrowed his eyes with contempt, wanting to be anywhere but here, his second home, because he practically lived there, Club Sion.

And so, on this special night and it still didn't register why it was so special, because he hadn't been listening when it was explained to him, as usual. The manager begged him, on his knees in fact, to come to the club and make an appearance. So he did his duty and mingled among the patrons and talked about god knows what with people who didn't care while making money that wasn't even worth the effort, because seriously, very few people made money the honest way anymore. Himself included.

He was beyond cynical these days. So cynical, he should bottle it and sell it to Coca-Cola. They could call it Asami's Cynical Soda, and it would taste like shit, and people would still buy it, because his photo would be on the can and it would promise virility and to feel real good going down your throat. It was all in how you marketed it.

Anyway, it was "Toast Night," or some kind of drivel, as the champagne flowed freely and the patrons drank until bubbles came out of their nose. He didn't know why he approved the endeavor. Maybe he did it to break the monotony of hiding and running, running and hiding, as if he was playing hide-and-seek with a bunch of gun toting children.

_He would eventually have to pay the price._

The price was either jail or death, neither of which sounded like much fun, that's for sure. The police were a joke, though, with a punch line and everything. They had their heads so far up their asses; they would need a proctologist. It also didn't hurt that he let the D.A. win at golf and drink for free at his clubs. So jail wasn't on the agenda.

And death? Well, because he was a god among men, or because he was incredibly lucky he stayed far enough away from any trouble that would possibility fling dirt on his expensive suit. Or the syndicate that wanted his head on a gold-plated platter was just incredibility incompetent.

So he wrapped himself in a cocoon of safety of his own making, and waited for the other shoe to drop. He would not concede defeat. That would be . . . defeatist, and that was not the kind of man he was. Yes, he was, indeed, a god among men or he was just plain arrogant.

_He was running on borrowed time, and the interest was exponential._

So he watched the inebriated crowds toast some celebration only present in their minds and wondered how long he could keep up the marathon. These days, he had to admit he was tired. He was bored. And he was tired of being bored. He was the poster child for melancholy, living a monochrome existence where the only color in his life was when he wore a blue tie. He needed an outlet. Yes, that kind of outlet, as in somewhere to bury his plug.

That was his first thought when he spied a waiter he'd seen in passing, but didn't acknowledge because usually, his was too conceited to actually talk to anyone. Yes, he was egotistical. Yes, he was a brutal man. But he still had needs, a man's needs. He was so manly, he should star in his own deodorant commercial.

So this little waiter, who had the body of a lithe dancer and hair the color of ebony otherwise known as black, caught his attention. He was cute. If he was any cuter Asami would have a nose bleed. And he was his for the taking, if he wanted.

_And he did want him._

"Kirishima," he said, "What is that kid's name?" Because Kirishima knew everyone's name, like Misa Misa from _Death Note. _He pointed a toothpick at the spritely looking waiter who was busy serving drinks to some rather loud middle-aged men. Men he recognized as powerful CEOs of some company or other, not much more than glorified salaried men, really. Glorified, drunk and obviously perverted salaried men, because when the waiter bent over, they all checked out his ass.

"I think its Sato, Sato Kaede. Is there a problem?" He asked, and there went his glasses down his nose.

"Not yet." And just as he suspected would happen because he had a six sense about these things, happened. One of the perverted CEOs with hair so combed over his bald head, he looked like a rake had done the job, grabbed the petite waiter's ass and kept it there, like he had crazy glue on his hand. Sato paused a moment, and continued to serve drinks, while this man, who didn't seem to take being ignored well judging by the pissed off look on his face, continued to grope the little waiter, as the other three perverted CEOs looked on with delight on their sweaty faces.

"Don't wait up for me, Kirishima," joked Asami and Kirishima frowned at the boy in question, because in his mind, there was only one person that would ever make Asami happy, and that was Akihito. Not that he would tell Asami that, ever. Akihito was the yin to Asame's yang, the push to his pull, the other side to the same coin. But, Kirishima new better to speak his mind, as he really really really (really3) didn't want to be fish food. Better to let the past die a natural death.

Making his way quickly over, doing his best knight-in-three-piece-suit routine, Asami surprised the table by his sudden appearance, and his even more sudden hand on said comb-over man's wrist, as it firmly clutched little waiter boy's ass. Confused yet? Yeah, so was little waiter boy. Since when did Asami-sama care who touched his staff? But the arrival of Asami, who thought himself a god and no one had the guts to tell him otherwise, brought a sudden halt to these pervy proceedings.

"Do you mind removing your hand, sir?" He said in the politest voice he could muster, except underneath the politeness, was the air of death, mainly because he was twisting the man's wrist hard. To get his point further across, he glared, making the man's pale face grow paler, as if he was a ghost of his former self.

"I'm sorry….Asami-sama." Comb-over man said, responding in his own politest voice, and calling him by an honorific out of place, since he was older than Asami.

Asami ignored him and turned to little waiter. "I do owe you an apology." He said, bowing. "The alcohol tonight is making our patrons loose." He gave the young waiter, who had yet to open his mouth and say anything, one of his questioning, yet strangely erotic, gazes as if to say, through his eyes….

…_.your place or mine?_

The boy didn't seem the least bit flustered by his heated gaze. He didn't even blush. "No problem, sir." He said, in a lyrical voice before glancing away quickly, as if looking at Asami in the eyes would cause him to go blind. And it probably would, if you were on the wrong end of one of his gazes. Just ask Decoration about it.

"Would you mind bringing a bottle of 1995 Perrier-Jouet to the VIP room? I plan to indulge tonight." Asami ordered, showing off the fact he could afford a 500,000 yen bottle of champagne, although it was his club, so he got it wholesale. If the boy was impressed he didn't show it.

"Yes sir." And the waiter left to his duty, shaking his little behind as if he was a dog wagging his tail.

_His for the taking._

Asami retired to the VIP room, awaiting his little damsel in distress. The boy knew what he wanted; he wasn't naïve, even though he looked like an adorable little first year uke. Not that he was a pedophile or anything, he did have some morals. Not many, but some.

"Your champagne, sir." He said, setting it on the table quietly and stepping back, crossing his arms in front of him. Asami took in the boy, who seemed to find the walls so fascinating. They were actually; the room was decorated in a style reminiscent of ancient Greece. If you looked closely, there were friezes of young viral Greek men in various states of undress running around the molding at the top.

"Care to drink with me?" Asami asked, "I hate to drink alone."

"I'm still on the clock, sir," little waiter replied.

"Then you are being paid to drink with me. So drink." He ordered and the waiter sat down, his apron pulling up around his middle, showing off his tight dancer like legs underneath his black pants.

"Of course, sir, I would be glad to." He said, and proceeded to open the champagne, sending the cork flying across the room where it landed in a potted plant.

"Good aim."

"Thank you, sir." He said, as he poured Asami a drink, followed by a drink for himself. Asami chuckled, he had brought two glasses. Perceptive.

"So, how long have you worked here?" It was indeed small talk. If it was any smaller they'd need a microscope to find it.

"A year or so, sir." He replied, looking at Asami with half-dead eyes, as if this whole conversation bored him to death as well.

"I see. Do you enjoy your work?" Asami asked, not really caring either way what the answer was.

"Of course, sir."

Asami took a sip of his drink and sat down next to little waiter boy, as he started to call him, because he couldn't remember what Kirishima said his name was. He leaned back, legs spread in his Super Asami seductive pose (which was different from Super Asami genius mode), and shook his glass around in a circle like it was a pair of medicine balls.

"Do you know why I wanted you to drink with me tonight?" Asami asked, looking lustfully at his little captured prize.

"Because you require my company, sir?" He replied and Asami's mouth twitched.

"That's right." Asami said and palmed waiter boy's crotch gently, feeling it harden under his touch. "What is your name?" Asami asked, when he pulled his hand back. He needed to refresh his memory and his drink as well.

"I'm Sato Kaede, sir." He replied and he started to undress, not doing it sexily, or slowly, just undressing, as if he was getting ready to take a bath. Asami gave Sato an appreciative once over. The boy was thin, almost too thin, but had a decent enough body.

"Are you familiar with a man's touch?" He asked, while he loosened his tie, which was about as undressed as he was going to get tonight, as he was the seme. There were rules to follow, you know. Eh, maybe he would take off his jacket.

"I'm not a virgin, sir, if that is what you are asking."

"I see." Asami seemed rather disappointed, he was hoping to pop little waiter boy's little virgin ass, like a ripe…er….cherry. But it didn't really matter, because Sato was leaning over and unbuckling Asami's belt and unzipping his pants. This encounter was so far as exciting as a pile of rocks. Maybe he needed to drink some more. "In a hurry?" He asked, finishing off his champagne and pouring himself another glass.

"No sir, I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't be sorry, if you're in a hurry, come suck me." He ordered, and he leaned back and watched Sato kneel in front of him like an obedient dog and take his cock into his mouth.

For some reason, as the boy skillfully sucked on him, licking his cock like a popsicle before deep-throating him, well, as deep as he could, Asami kept thinking of other things, all work related. A meeting he needed to schedule, a liquor license that needed to be renewed, trivial things, things he would leave to Kirishima and forget all about. Sato's work had made him hard, and it felt good, but Asami needed more. He craved more, wanted more than to be serviced, as if he was a car in need of an oil change.

What he wanted, no, what he desired, was Akihito. More than a half of a year later, and he still missed his tentative touches on his skin, the way he blushed so easily from the his heated looks, pushed him away only to clutch at his shirt in desperation as he gave into his lust. He was done giving himself excuses why he shouldn't feel this way…..because he was a mob boss, because emotions dragged you down, because Akihito was a hindrance to his business. It didn't really matter anyway, because he had thrown Akihito away, like yesterday's newspaper. Asami realized he wasn't a god among men at all. He was just a stupid guy, one stupid guy in a world of stupid guys who pushed away what they thought they didn't deserve. And he certainly didn't deserve Akihito.

"Akihito." He whispered so softly that it barely registered. The slurping sounds at his crotch got louder, and he clutched the arm rest and closed his eyes in pleasure, thinking only that it was Akihito's lips around his cock as he came without warning into little waiter boy's mouth.

His mood brightened. Getting a good blow-job after a hard day's or night's, work did something for the psyche. He grabbed at Sato's chin and pulled him up, enjoying seeing his cum dribbling down Sato's face, the redness of the carpet burn on his knees. Sato eyes strayed to the left, then the right, as if planning his escape, refusing to meet Asami's gaze. He was trembling, just ever so slightly, as if he was cold. Asami wouldn't have noticed it, had he not had his chin firmly in his hands.

"Are you afraid of me?" Asami asked, knowing the answer already.

"N-n…no." He said.

"There are reasons people don't lie to me." He warned, and narrowed his eyes.

"I..."

"Do you want me to take you? You can say no. I won't fire you." He said, suddenly irritated by the very presence of Sato in the room.

"I just….I have someone I love and I really…"

His irritation grew. "Why did you come up here then, knowing what I wanted?" He said, and let go of the boy's chin.

He shrugged and pulled back, wiping Asami's cum off of his chin with the back of his hand. "I thought it was in my best interest not to refuse you."

Asami fixed his pants and rose, walking over to the window overlooking his hyped-up, shit-hole bar. The mannequins were still drinking, still telling the same bull-shit stories to each other. "I'm not in the mood anymore. Get dressed and get out."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." He said automatically while he got dressed quickly.

"What are you thanking me for?" Asami asked. Actually he should be thanking him, but that wasn't going to happen.

"I'm sorry, sir."

Asami chuckled, more with contempt than with humor. "Go fuck your boyfriend and leave me alone with my misery."

The boy smiled. "I hope you find someone you love to, someday." He said, as he closed the door behind him as he left.

"It's not going to happen, kid." He said to himself.


	12. Chapter 12

*Well, I can't tell you how many times I wrote and re-wrote this. I don't know what Asami would do. So if you think he's OOC, sorry.

Chapter 12

"What's with that look?" Asami asked Kirishima upon his arrival at his office at the safe house for the days shenanigans, which included paperwork with the promise of more paperwork, a light lunch, followed by more paperwork. "Are you hung over from that champagne nonsense last night?" Kirishima started to wonder what his face looked like, as he was trying to remain composed after reading the article in today's newspaper. He was obviously failing.

"You know I don't drink on duty, Asami-sama." He said, which meant he never drank since he always seemed to be on duty.

"Well, what is it? I've never seen you look so wary." He said, chuckling to himself. In fact, Kirishima looked like he was ready to bolt, as if Asami was going to finally feed him to the fishes after so many years of loyal service. "Something interesting happen last night? Did you finally get a girl's phone number?" Asami teased.

"That's not it, Asami-sama." Kirishima appeared to be sweating bullets, if bullets did indeed sweat.

"Are you going to give me the paper? Or are you going to hoard it all to yourself?"

Taking a deep breath, Kirishima handed him the paper. "I'll leave you to it, then. I have reports to finish. Please call me if you need anything." He said, as he pushed his glasses up with his finger. Some habits never die.

"Kirishima." Asami said, warningly, "What's in the paper?"

"You really are shrewd. It's only a small article, page 4, right hand side at the bottom. I have yet to confirm the report."" He said, and he practically ran out of the office, well, not really, but he walked pretty fast and then stood outside the door, cringing, and waiting for inevitable volcano.

Asami smirked as he opened the paper, just to alleviate his fears, not that he had any. Kirishima had the tendency to overreact, as did most people around him, not realizing that most problems he faced could be easily dealt with if you threw enough money at it. Money, and not love, made the world go around, at least in his world.

He took out a toothpick, this one was spearmint. He had the freshest breath of any crime lord that he knew of. "Ad for penis enlargement….another ad for penis enlargement….another ad for…" Asami said to himself as he turned the pages. He stopped on page four.

_Afghani Rebels Attack National Geographic Snow Leopard Team  
One Killed, Two Others Critically Wounded_

_-Kabul, Afghanistan. On Wednesday, September 9__th__, three staff members from National Geographic were ambushed while researching Snow Leopard populations in the region. One person was killed and two others were wounded when the car they were travelling in hit a mine. UN hospital administration is declining comment at this time, pending next-of-kin notification._

He let the paper fall from his hands letting it flutter to the floor like a black and white butterfly, and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, as if willing away what he had just read. This had to be wrong. It had to be a typo. He was sure of it.

"Kirishima!" He yelled, with a mixture of anger and frustration.

"Yes, Asami-sama?" He said, handing him a glass of scotch, even though it was ten in the morning. "I thought you might need this." He said, trying not to look Asami in the eyes. He had that look. The one he saw on the ship in Hong Kong, the face of despair, that scary, scary face.

Asami shook his head and pushed the drink aside. He wanted a clear head right now. "Find out what the hell happened in Afghanistan and I want to know…"

"Yesterday, Asami-sama?" He said cutting off his boss's overused phrase.

"Tell me Akihito wasn't the one that was killed." He said, rubbing his sudden headache again with his fingers, as if punishing it would make it go away. "And if it was…..I will allow you to lie to me."

"I don't have an answer. The Red Cross won't say, the UN won't say, National Geographic won't say. They have tighter lips than a virgin on her wedding night."

"Thanks for the analogy."

"Sorry. I have a call in to Kou, Akihito's friend. I'm waiting for a call back." As if on cue, as if someone had willed the phone to ring, Kirishima's cell started chirping its merry or not so merry tune. His ringtone? The theme from Godfather. Kirishima was a walking cliché.

"Kirishima speaking."

"_Kirishima-sama. It's Kou, what do you want?" _Kou asked, sounding irritated.

"Let me talk to him." Asami demanded.

"Asami-sama wants a chat with you." He relayed and handed the phone to Asami.

"Kou. This is Asami. Akihito..is he all right? The article in the paper…..it was so vague."

"_Why do you care?"_

"I have my reasons."

"_Which are?"_

"Don't play this with me, you won't win."

"_So, do you want to send flowers or something? He's in the UN Hospital in Kabul."_

"So he's alive? I want answers. I want to know what happened."

"_Yeah, well…he's not dead, thanks for asking, but he's not doing well. So, there's that. Anyway, you and he aren't together anymore, so it's none of your business, is it? ."_

"It IS my business. And he will continue to be my business until we depart this world."

"_Why? Do you love him? Do you want to be by his side? You broke Aki's heart when you sent him away, you know that don't you?"_

"He wanted to be free of me. I gave him what he wanted."

"_You don't know Aki at all. He doesn't know what he wants."_

Asami's mouth twitched. "What did Akihito tell you about me?"

"_I had to get him drunk just to find out he was seeing a man, other than that, he didn't say much. Why, do you have something to hide?"_

"Let's just say, I have enemies, and because of that, he was targeted."

"_So you sent him away to protect his life, is that it?"_

"Simply put."

"_Akihito didn't know that, you should have told him."_

"He's so stubborn, would he have listened? At any rate, this conversation is going nowhere. I don't want to talk about feelings and relationships or what I should and should not have done. Akihito's alive, yes? I want to know…."

"_No, Asami-sama. You are gone from his life. You don't have any right to know."_

"Kou, you don't seem to understand. I will get the answers I want."

"_Yadda-yadda. Listen to me good. Stay away from Akihito. You and I know it's better this way."_

"How could this be better? I wanted him by my side, but I had reasons for what I did!"

"_Will you listen to yourself? Just fuckin' grow a pair, Asami-sama! You seem like this tough guy, but when it comes to matters of the heart, you're just a weak child!"_

"You shouldn't say things like that to me, I warn you."

"_I care more about Aki than about wounding your precious pride. If you hadn't sent him away, he wouldn't be hurt!"_

"Don't you realize I know that? I'm beating myself up right now!"

"_And I'll gladly __join you in the beating, Asami-sama. I don't want Aki hurt any more than he already is. Stay away."_

"You can't stop me from helping him."

"_What are you going to do, fly to his beside?"_

"I can't leave the country for complicated reasons. But I can pay for the best doctors, the best medical care, I can…."

"_Do you think that he's lying in a 3__rd__ world shit-hole hospital? He's in a UN Hospital. He has the best money can buy, NatGeo has deep pockets, I'm sure you can understand what that means. Don't try to fix this. You can't. Just leave him be."_

"What are his wounds? And I want a list."

_Kou sighed. "Fine, but I didn't tell you, got that? The doctors won't talk to anyone outside of the family, because of some privacy rules, or whatever, so I got this from his dad. So, I'm not sure how reliable this is, because he was really emotional when he told me. I've never heard a grown man cry like that."_

"I'm listening."

"_Akihito was in a car escaping from the rebels and the car hit a mine."_

"I got that much from that stupid article." He took out a pen and paper so he could take notes.

"_He suffered brain trauma, a crushed right leg, as in from the knee down, they had to amputate it. He had internal injuries. The surgery took eighteen hours and Akihito's heart stopped. They were able to shock his heart and now he's in a medically induced coma. He may have suffered oxygen loss to his brain. The doctors can't be sure. Right now his condition is critical, whatever that means."_

Asami's mood darkened, if it wasn't already dark already to begin with, as the list was read to him. A laundry list of injuries, any one of them could have killed Akihito. But he was still alive, he was still holding on. The boy was a fighter. But the thought of Akihito in a hospital so far away, machines helping him breathe, a space under the covers where there once was a limb, his head shaved from surgery, the whoosh whoosh of the ventilator assisting his breathing, the loud beep beep of the heart rate monitor, counting out his heartbeats, the image made the bile rise in his throat. The light, the fire in Akihito's eyes...was it going to be gone for good?

"So the prognosis is not good." He said, swallowing with difficulty as he finished writing down the information. He then handed to Kirishima, who read it quickly, his eyes widening at the devastating news. He had taken a bullet for the boy, he had a vested interest the boy, and he was worried. For Akihito and for his boss, who looked like he had just been run over by a truck, then the truck backed up, and ran over him again, for good measure.

"_Akihito is strong-willed, but his body…."_

"He was like a puff of air." Asami said.

_"Was? You talk like he's dead already."_

_"_Is."

"_Do you believe in fate, Asami-sama?" _ Kou asked.

"Yes, of course."

"_Fate is a funny thing, you know?"_

"Then how come no one is laughing?"

"_Akihito has moved on. Perhaps you should to. Don't call me again." _ And he hung up.

Asami threw the phone hard against the wall and it shattered into pieces, making a tinkling noise when it hit the floor.

"Feel better?" Kirishima asked, picking up his throughly destroyed phone.

"No." Asami replied flatly.

"What do you want me to do?" Kirishima asked.

"Nothing, he's right. He's gone from my life. I have to let him go. I should have never brought him into my world in the first place, he didn't deserve it."

"We both know you aren't going to let him go, really, this is all just lip service."

Asami looked at him with murderous eyes, but then they softened. "You know me too well."

"I try. Asami-sama, your orders?" Kirishima asked again.

"Find out who attacked Akihito and his party, and have them killed." He ordered.

"I don't think your claws reach that far, Asami-sama." He replied.

"Well, Kirishima, truth be told…then..I don't know what to do." He admitted, and shrugged as he lifted the scotch from his desk and downed it and went to pour another.

"I just don't know what to do." He said again.


	13. Chapter 13

Akihito opened one eye and immediately shut it. Too bright. Maybe the other eye wouldn't be so sensitive, so he opened it and then shut it again. Well, that didn't work.

"Even if he lives, he's going to be sick a lot." A man's voice said, and he heard the unmistakable uncomfortable laughter of his dad. Like he knew he shouldn't be laughing but couldn't help it.

"Dad?" He tried to say, but something was stuck in his throat. Pocky? No, it was bigger than Pocky. No, it wasn't THAT. It tasted like plastic. No, it wasn't THAT either.

"I think he opened his eyes." A woman's voice said.

"Mom?" Again, he was prevented in making any sounds. That thing in his mouth was annoying. He tried to clutch at it weakly, but only managed to wonder who they heck these pale arms belonged to. Were these his arms? They were so thin. Well, thinner than normal.

"Takaba-kun?" A man's voice said. He said his name like it was an item on his grocery list, although he did have a good voice. He opened his right eye again, and there was the bright light, like he was at the dentist. "Pupils are reactive, good. Good." The man said "good" like he was describing chocolate candy. Akihito liked candy. Boy did he want some Pocky right now. Almond flavor, with the sprinkles on the outside.

His stomach rumbled.

"Well, there's a good sign, he's hungry." Who in the heck said that? Another voice? How many people were in his room? Mom, dad, idiot guy with the voice….another woman's voice. Was this a convention? A party in his room?

_Oh shit! Get out! I don't have any clothes on._

"My son is always hungry. Honey, can you hear me? It's mom. Do you remember me?"

_Of course I remember you. I'm not a freakin' idiot mom. _

"He may be disoriented. Can you open your eyes, son?" The man's voice said.

_I'm not your son you freakin' idiot. My dad is over there. Unless I'm a bastard and you're here to tell me….I am your father, like your Darth Vader and I'm Luke Skywalker. What the hell kind of son wants a cyborg for his dad? And then he killed the younglings. How can you forgive that? So he killed the Emperor at the end? That was supposed to make mass murder all right? Hunky dory, hunky dory, Star Wars, hunky dory._

He opened his eyes anyway, because if he kept them closed he would keep analyzing why George Lucas should go out and shoot himself, saving the world's geek population a whole lot of heartache.

Anyway, the light wasn't so bright this time. If only he didn't hurt so much, he could just get up and walk out and get his own freakin' Pocky. Because seriously, the antiseptic smell in his room made him gag. Did his mom clean with bleach or something?

Bleach. Why the heck did they end that anime anyway? I mean, the manga is still going strong. It's boring, but still going. So they ended the anime, and everyone just rolled over an accepted that? Ah well, it was probably better because then he could get his life back and quit trying to figure out why Ichigo hadn't gotten Orihime into the sack already, or Renji for that matter, or both. At the same time? That would have been the surprising ending of the decade. That would have been worth watching, not that he was a pervert or anything.

"There's my baby and those precious eyes. How are you feeling?"

_Oh yeah, someone was talking to him. How can I answer you? You freakin' idiot. There's something in my throat. Do I have strep?_

"We have to ask him yes or no questions until the tube is removed."

_You just figured that out you…..tube? Who stuck a tube in my throat? You guys are perverts!_

"CAN YOU HEAR ME!" His mom yelled, in typical his mom style. He wouldn't be surprised if his mom started shoving hot soup down his throat next.

"Dear, don't yell at him, nothing is wrong with his ears." His dad was the yin to mom's crazy yang, or vice versa. Now there was a stable loving relationship.

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot." She'd forget her own name, if it wasn't on her driver's license. She wasn't stupid, she was just easily distracted. It was in her DNA or something.

"Blink once for yes, twice for no." The man ordered. He really had a nice voice, even if the guy had the personality of a boiled potato. He could do voice over for anime, and he'd play the hero, and he'd have a cape and would have a friend that was really beautiful, even though he was a guy. And then aspiring writers would tell stories about him and his friend doing it, even though they never did it on the show. Yeah, that would be a good program.

_Wait, what did he ask me to do? Something about blinking?_

So, Akihito started blinking. He blinked so fast he could have been reciting _War and Peace _in Morse Code.

"No," the man said, "like this. Slowly, once for yes, twice for no." And he demonstrated. The man had a funky eye color. Like orange or something. He couldn't be sure. "Can you do that for me?""

_Of course I can, I'm not an idiot. _He blinked once. Yes.

"Are you in pain?"

_Of course I am, you freakin' idiot. _He blinked once. Yes.

"Do you remember the accident?"

_What accident? The last thing he remembered he was taking photos of cats. Big cats that smelled like piss and that was it. _He blinked twice. _No._

"He might have some memory loss. It can't be helped."

_Might? Get a freakin' clue! Memory loss. What else is new? Every time he drank he lost a couple of hours, and then when he woke up he was in someone's bed. Not just someone. Asami's bed. Asami the pervert who liked to fuck drunk guys. _

"We can remove the tube when I'm sure you can breathe on your own." The man said.

_Of course I can breathe on my own, you freakin' idiot. _And inhaled and exhaled just to prove his point. But the idiot man didn't seem to notice. He started to call him Mr. Orange because of those freakish eyes. They looked like a ripe mandarin. So tasty. He wanted a mandarin. That sounded good.

"Listen, Takaba-kun, you've been in a coma. It's now September 24th. The accident happened on the 9th." The man said. And it finally dawned on Akihito's addled brain that he was a doctor.

_Ohh..this made sense. That's why he hurt so bad, and why he needed a calendar. And why he was so hungry. When was the last time he ate? So if today was the 24th__, then, he had two weeks of the new season of The Mentalist on his DVR back home. He sure loved that show. So did….._

_Asami. Where the heck was he? Oh yeah, that's right, that asshole dumped him. And now he was in this shit-hole taking pictures of cats. Where was his Pocky? Did someone go make a Pocky run?_

He started blinking wildly again, like he was a stoplight.

"I think he's a little confused." Dr. Orange said.

_Of course I am you freakin' idiot. You would be to if you lost two weeks of your life._

He pointed to his leg and head. They hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

"Do you need some pain relief?

_Do you need a good kick in the head? _He blinked once. Yes.

"Nurse, 15 mg of morphine." He said to the woman beside him. Must be a nurse, because he said 'nurse.' Or she could be one of those groupies that liked to hang around hospitals in elastic pants. "You had severe head trauma and internal bleeding. Your leg was damaged as well. Do you understand?"

_And your tires need rotated, and you need an oil change. Looks like that timing belt is about due. We should also do a stem lube. That'll run you about…. Oh that's right I'm supposed to tell asshole something with my blinking eyes. So he blinked. _

He blinked once. Yes. And then he blinked twice. No.

_That's it, keep 'em guessing, Akihito. Don't let them see you sweat. This is just what they want; get your guard down and then bam! Hit you with the news that you're gonna die._

"You need to get some more sleep; it will become clearer to you."

He blinked twice. No.

"I'm your doctor and you need to sleep."

_I'm your patient and you're an asshole. Why does my leg feel so weird? _He pointed to his leg.

The man sighed, and he sounded like someone had let the air out of his tires on his scooter back home. "Your leg had to be amputated below the knee. Do you understand?"

_Dr. Orange….you're so charismatic when you tell patients they had a life altering injury. Really. I love you Dr. Orange. Dr. Orange you're wanted in personality transplant. Dr. Orange, paging Dr. Orange, your asshole is showing. __Give it to me straight, doc. _

He blinked once. Yes.

_So he was a cripple….what the heck? Why do I feel so weird? Who put roofies in my Pocky? That was it, Dr. Orange was really Asami, and this was a joke, right? Wait, didn't they break-up? What was Asami doing in Afghanistan with his parents? _

"Get some sleep, son. We'll be right here. We aren't going anywhere." Dad said. "Son, I'm afraid you aren't going to die." And then he laughed again. Such a jokester.

_Of course I'm not dying, you freakin…._


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"My world has turned upside down." Asami said, giving his broken globe a spin just to prove his point. It wobbled and then fell over on the floor, landing so that Antarctica was at the top. "They even broke my favorite coffee mug." His favorite coffee mug was a birthday gift from his men and had the words _World's Greatest Mob Boss_ with a picture of a grinning dog holding a smoking gun. Irreplaceable.

_Someone was going to have to pay for that._

"Guess the police weren't raised right, breaking things that don't belong to them. Such a shame." Kirishima remarked, looking so thoroughly disappointed in Tokyo's so-called protectors of the public good.

"Well, what did they cart away for "evidence" this time?" He said, and yes he did the air quotes.

"Nothing much. Your term paper on economics of the Heian period, a screenplay Akira wrote about the French Civil War in French no less, sixteen copies of _Dr. Zhivago_ – in the original Russian of course, and Suoh's thesis entitled _Famous Body Guards through the Ages_." He replied.

"Well, I'm sure they will find that light reading fascinating," said Asami, grinning like a cat that ate the canary.

"Perhaps we should spring a pop quiz on them later," replied Kirishima, with an equal sadistic grin.

"You're such a genius, hiding important data in plain sight." He said, and picked up the Yellow pages from his desk and thumbed through it. Instead of ads and phone numbers, there were hidden compartments for computer discs. "Pure genius."

"You'll make me blush, Asami-sama." He said. Of course, he didn't blush. Kirishima never blushed. He didn't even get pink cheeked when it was cold out. "Are the cops getting stupider? Or are we just that good at out thinking them?" He asked.

"Ah, the gods have smiled on us, I think." He said flicking a toothpick into his mouth like it was an M&M. He'd gotten rather good at that. "Close the club for remodeling."

"Already done."

He sighed. Well, not really sighed, it was more of an exhale, because tough mob bosses don't sigh. "How's Akihito? Any change?" Asami asked, sitting down on the only useable piece of furniture in the place, a metal folding chair.

"Well, thanks to your rather large and generous donation to National Geographic, I was able to make some friends who seem very inclined to keep me informed." He said. "They are extremely grateful."

"I'm sure they are, but naming an entire annex after me was going a bit far. Don't you?"

"Your donation was indeed generous."

"Fu fu. Pocket change." He said, giving Kirishima a dismissive gesture. "So Akihito…."

"Well, he's in and out of consciousness and seems rather confused at times. He gets belligerent and keeps asking for Pocky." He replied.

"And this is different from before…..how?"

"He's lost a good deal of his memory. He doesn't remember the attack, which is probably a good thing." He replied. "And then there's the whole missing limb thing."

"Yes, there's that." He said his eyes darkened for a moment. "Let's hope he doesn't remember that day. From the report I understand it was a blood bath." Asami liked money baths, but blood baths were a different matter. Well, he liked those too, as long as he was on the winning side.

He adjusted his glasses and took out his notepad. "I got new information just this morning. The UN team arrived just minutes after their car hit the land mine. Akihito and his colleague, a man named Keir Shelly, were the only survivors, although Shelly is said to still be comatose. He was ejected from the vehicle."

"Ouch." He said. "What happened to the bad guys?"

"All dead."

"Awwww…that's just too bad." He said, with sarcasm, actually extreme sarcasm. "So, Akihito wants Pocky, I'm happy to oblige. I think 5 cases would be nice for a start? Send them anonymously, of course. I don't want people to think I'm soft-hearted." He could be hard-headed and heavy-handed but never soft-hearted.

"You're generosity continues to amaze and baffle me." He replied.

"I aim to please."

-BVF-

_Akihito was running, as if he was late for school or the train or something. He ran so fast, that it almost seemed like the background moved with him, in tiny little lines. He jumped over a fence in his attempt to…..he wasn't sure. He was clueless as to who was chasing him or if he was being chased, or why he was running even, he just knew he had to get away. His head and his leg hurt. Did he get injured? He wasn't sure about that either, only that he was in pain and he was running. He turned a corner and ran smack into a man blocking the sidewalk. He tried to go around him, but the man seemed to move with him, as if he knew what he was going to do before he did it. The man was either clairvoyant or just a really, really big guy._

"_Excuse me." He said to the man, who was dressed in red jeans and a yellow t-shirt. An odd combination, like the guy was color blind or really wanted to stand out. He looked familiar, but couldn't place his face, as it seemed obscured, like he was wearing a mask. The man was smiling at him. It was such a nice smile, and his eyes were the color of the bright blue sky._

"_You shouldn't go running in minefields." The man said and laughed._

"_I need to get around you; you're like a brick wall."_

"_You can't run forever."_

"_Huh?"_

"_You can stop running now. Ok, Akihito?"_

"_Keir?"_

"_You just need to wake up. Son? Wake up."_

"Huh?" Akihito startled awake suddenly, trying to hold onto that strange dream but it was gone the minute he opened his eyes and saw his dad's smiling face hovering over him. "Dad?" He asked weakly, startled by the sound of his raspy voice.

"Hey sport. You want to kick the ball around?" He said sarcastically.

"Dad. You're a butthead." He replied, as he tried to sit up. "What day is today?"

"Friday. That means yesterday was Thursday." His dad said, stating the obvious, his specialty.

"I mean the date." And he pointed to his butt and then his head. "Butthead. And I don't mean that as an endearing term."

"Akihito! Don't use that kind of language!" His mom yelled, suddenly coming into the room to catch only part of their ridiculous conversation. She had food, a big plate of something that looked like food anyway. He couldn't be sure.

"I think we should put the tube back in his mouth. At least it was quieter in here." He suggested, with a devious grin.

Akihito rolled his eyes, as he leaned over to scratch an imaginary itch where his leg would have been. "It itches."

"I know, son. I'm sorry." She said, and put his plate in front of him. "Here let me feed you."

"Nothing is wrong with my hands, mom." He said and wrestled the fork away from her.

One of his doctors came in the room, holding a bunch of charts and some other doctory type crap. But it wasn't any doctor, it was his favorite doctor. Dr. Orange, the asshole.

"Hi, Akihito. How are we feeling today?" He said in a flat wooden tone. Maybe Dr. Orange talked like that because his first language wasn't Japanese. That would make sense.

"_WE_ are feeling fine, Dr. Orange. Mom brought me crap to eat. Does this look like crap to you?" He asked, holding up a weird looking piece of meat.

"My name isn't Dr. Orange. It's Dr. Nash. And it looks good. It's Kofta Challow, the cafeteria's regional specialty. Really tasty. Be glad you're not eating the hospital food. It makes you lose weight." He gave Akihito the once over. "And you can't afford to lose weight."

"But it's so bland."

"I had them make it not spicy. It will upset your tummy." His mother said, patting his hand like he was a child. Which, in her eyes, he would always be her little Aki-chan.

He rolled his eyes again and took a bite. They all watched him chew like he was a monkey in the zoo. "Stop staring at me." He said.

"We're just wondering what will come out your mouth next." Dr. Orange said, leaning over to check the stitches on his head.

"Spit will be coming out of my mouth if you don't get the hell away from my head. Stop picking at my stitches, you asshole!"

His mother paled.

"Don't upset your mother like that." He warned.

"So sowwwy." He said, and he flashed his puppy dog eyes at his dad.

"All right, I know you can't help it." His dad said.

"Akihito, are you ready to receive a visitor? National Geographic is here to chat with you." Dr. Orange asked.

"Really? Someone to visit me? Are they bringing me something to eat? Because this stuff tastes like..shi….I mean it tastes funny." Akihito said.

"You still need to eat it." Dr. Orange warned. He went to checking his bandages on his leg. Dr. Orange poked a little too hard, and Akihito flinched.

"Ouch! And just for that, I'm not going to eat." He said, and then he stuck out his tongue.

Dr. Orange fumed and his face turned red. "You need to eat, or I will put you back on nutritional supplements!"

"That stuff tastes like chalk!"

Dr. Orange took out his pen and started to write something in his chart, giving Akihito a warning glance. His pen hovered over the paper, ready to write the order. The air in the room became crackly as the two stared at each other in a silent dare. Someone (his dad) started whistling the theme from _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly._ Dr. Orange narrowed his eyes, and pushed the end of the pen a couple of times, grinning when he heard the click-click that sounded really loud in their confined space.

It was the classic Mexican stand-off.

And Akihito caved. "Fine, I'll eat it, Dr. Orange!"

"My name is not Dr. Orange!" Dr. Orange said.

"Hahahahah! Dr. Orange, you look like an anime character. You should have veins popping out of your forehead or a sweat drop or something." He said, while holding back a laugh.

"Knock knock." A woman's voice said at the door. "I'm Annette Kinder, from National Geographic?" She said it in a question, so Akihito guessed she wasn't sure where she was from.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Takaba Akihito." He said, giving her a little wave.

"Do you remember me, Takaba-kun?" She asked.

"Umm..no. Should I?" She had a familiar face, but couldn't place it.

"We met at our office here, in Kabul. But that was a while ago." She took out a file. "How are you feeling these days?"

"I'm ok. A little confused. What happened to my colleagues? Did they get hurt? I thought they would come and visit, but….."

"Can you leave us alone please?" He turned to his parents and doctor. "This is confidential." His mom went to say something to him, but decided against it. They all left, quickly closing the door behind them.

"What have I forgotten?" He asked, lowering his voice. Akihito's tone became serious. "I want to know. Keir and Topkay…something is wrong and my brain hurts from trying to put together the pieces."

She took a breath. "Topkay was killed, execution style by the rebels." She stated flatly. There was no tender way to break this news.

Akihito's felt coldness running down his face. He was crying. "I'm sorry." He said, trying to wipe away the tears.

"It's ok to feel sad, Takaba-kun." She said gently.

"And where is Keir? He said, sniffling loudly and rubbing his nose with his sleeve.

"Keir has been on life support since that day."

"Is he…is he going to wake up, like I did?"

"Takaba-kun, life support just delays the inevitable. We're just waiting for his family to make the final decision." She said sadly.

"I just, I feel like I'm being disloyal, (sniff) because I don't remember much about them. I don't even remember (sob) what they looked like, really."

"Would you like to see the photos you took, maybe that will help you remember them?"

"What photos?"

She handed him a layout, he guess it was for the next issue. "Are these mine? Wow. They're kind of good." He flipped through the sheets and came to the last page. There was a photo of him and his two colleagues. Keir looked goofy, he looked dirty, and Topkay looked uncomfortable. It was a rather comical photo.

_Hey, let's take a group shot. Keir, you stand there, Topkay you stand there. Com'on, don't make that face!_

_Akihito, hurry up, I have to piss _

_Piss later, I want to catch the sunset in the background. You can hold it._

_Hahaha. It will be your fault if I piss my pants._

_What are you 5? You can't hold it for a few seconds, really?_

_Ready, Set_

_click_

_Fine. Go piss. I'm done._

"It's…it's a good photo. I'm proud to have been part of the team." He said.

She handed him a tissue. "Natgeo is proud to have you on the staff."

He blew his nose, but it didn't help his mood. "Thank you for coming, and for the update." He said politely. He looked thoroughly red-eyed now. His mom was going to be all over him with tissues and hot soup. Well, he could enjoy being pampered by his mom. He needed it.

"Call me if you need anything. I'll be in touch." She said, and handed him her card.

"All right." He replied.

"And Takaba-kun, we will be talking soon about continuing your work in the field. So that means, hurry up and get well. Ok?"

"Uh...ok." He gave her the thumbs up.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"What is it now, I just dozed off." An uncharacteristically disheveled crime lord popped one eye open and rummaged around for his phone. Even tough mob bosses get bed head. "Someone better be dying, and if they aren't, I'm gonna kill 'em." He answered it with a grunt. "What?"

"_Asami-sama, we have company."_ Suoh said.

"If it's the paper delivery boy, let him know that I don't appreciate having to rescue my morning paper from the sprinklers." He fumed, running his fingers through his hair, and that's all it took to make it looked perfect.

"_No, it's the cops." _Suoh stated, in his "I'm irritated because my boss is irritated" voice.

"Dammit, all right, can you keep them busy? Give me five minutes." Normally, criminals wouldn't get that kind of courtesy, but Asami was a special criminal. That because most of the cops at the precinct were in his back pocket. You know. . .the cramped back pocket. The ones that weren't in his back pocket had a crush on him.

"_Will do, Asami-sama."_

And so, Asami got dressed to greet his visitors. He had thought of just meeting them at the door in his jockeys, just to see their reactions when they got a look at _his body_, but seeing handcuffs always did something to his libido, so he thought better of it. Yeah, let's keep that fetish private. Asami came out of his bedroom, in his casual wear, meaning he wasn't wearing a tie, looking thoroughly irritated, even more so than he was five minutes before. Thinking about handcuffs reminded him of doing _you-know-what _to _you-know-who_, so now he was horny on top of being irritated.

"Police officers are storming the house. They have a warrant for your arrest." Kirishima said in an even tone, although on the inside he was panicking.

Police never walked into a house, they always stormed into it, almost falling over each other in a rather comical fashion, with guns drawn at 90 degrees, as if trying to look cool, but failing miserably.

"It's time, isn't it, time to face the music?" He said, pulling his gun out of its holster, unloading it quickly before placing it on the table. "Seemed we've been out bribed." He'd been outgunned and out maneuvered, but never out bribed. This was a first.

"I'm sorry. I was hoping we could avoid this." Kirishima apologized. "But the syndicate's pockets run deeper than even yours."

"It can't be helped. But I'm not going down without a fight, a legal fight, this time, I guess. I've been guilty of a lot of things, but killing Hakatora was not one of them." He said. "Make the necessary arrangements to bail me out. I don't want to spend time in custody any longer than I have to. Being around so many cops gives me a rash."

"Understood." He would have to get Asami some anti-cop rash cream.

A few seconds later police officers kicked in his office door, posing with their weapons drawn like a Charlie's Angels poster. It made Asami laugh. It was an evil laugh, the kind that echoed in your ears long after the laughter had died. The door clattered against the frame, cracking from the strain.

"Umm, come in?" He asked them, with a glare that would make even sumo wrestlers cry.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Hakatora. Please come quietly." One cop ordered.

"I was just about to have tea. Can this wait?" He asked with a menacing sneer.

"Come quietly." The detective repeated. He must have been a detective. He was wearing a fedora and smoking a Camel cigarette.

Asami had no intention of going quietly. He was going to talk their ear off about nothing in general, turning up the charm. He could charm the pants off the Pope himself, if the Pope wore pants.

He surrendered his gun without them asking and turned around to be frisked. "I hope you plan on asking me on a date before you frisk me." He said, with a rather terrifying grin. The cop doing the frisking blushed but said nothing. That's because his mind was full of all sorts of perverted things that he would like to have done to him by _that body, e_ven though just minutes before he was thinking about his wife's big boobs.

"Just shut up and let us do our jobs." Another cop said.

"I wouldn't dream of interfering with your job, just making conversation." He flicked a toothpick in his mouth.

The detective grabbed the toothpick, broke it and stared into Asami's eyes menacingly, which was difficult, since the cop was so short, maybe he was standing on a footstool?

"Yes, Asami-sama, we will be chatting later, about all your evil deeds," said short cop. This one was wearing a brown rain coat, although it hadn't rained in a week, so he must be another detective.

Asami laughed. "Yes, yes, my guts are black, black, black and evil, evil, evil." He loved messing with cops. "I've heard it all before."

"Shut up, you're going downtown." Someone had been watching too many cop shows.

"But we are already downtown, maybe you mean uptown." He pointed out. "Wait, no you mean…"

"Shut up." So rude!

"Kirishima, bring me something to eat later. Lobster would be nice." He grinned, as he got handcuffed. Nice handcuffs, he will have to remind Kirishima to buy him some. "Oh and do a Starbucks run, I want a Trenta Soy Caramel Frappuccino, no drizzle, no whip."

"Extra shot?"

"Yes….for god's sake, yes." He called behind him as he was escorted out of building, flanked by two cute cops who fought over who would drive him to the precinct.

"I will do so, Asami-sama." He said, looking very smug and rather amused by what he just witnessed. Smiling made his face hurt, so he choose to look smug, which was different from smirking somehow although it looked the same.

-BVF-

Akihito dreamed a lot, sometimes THOSE kinds of dreams, which was embarrassing when he woke up and his mother was staring at him with a funny look on her face. Luckily, nothing was wrong with his third leg, nudge nudge, wink, wink.

Anyway, Akihito's dreams….like most of his dreams, left him feeling confused. But what else was new? So when he woke from his brain-addled and pain killer induced slumber, he tried to make sense of them, but failed. But always…..always, when he woke his mom or dad, or both would be hovering over him with concern, as if willing away the bad nightmares like a dream-catcher above his bed.

"You're talking in your sleep again, son." His dad said, standing right at his side, as if he had watched him sleep, and probably had. His dad looked tired, but managed to keep a grin on his face. Maybe his face froze that way.

"What did I say?" He asked, pulling himself up and running a finger through his hair, which was starting to grow back, looking like peach fuzz, except it was all black.

"You were calling for someone. I couldn't make it out what you said though, it sounded like a name."

"My brain is still fuzzy. The dreams don't make sense. I was hoping they would help me piece together my memory." He replied. He hoped he hadn't been saying _that name. _As in Asami, because he was still rather pissed at how he got dumped.

"Maybe it's better you don't try to remember, son." He said, in all his dad wisdom.

He shrugged. "Can you take me to see Keir? I want…to…to see him before his family comes to take him home." The tears started immediately, before he could even stop them. "Why am I crying over a man I barely remember, dad?"

"Do you want to talk to the psychologist today?" He asked.

"No. I just want to be left alone and eat my Pocky."

"You'll get fat if you eat that much Pocky. Who in the heck sent you five cases?" He asked.

"Probably my friends." He replied, shrugging. Although 5 cases was a lot of money and the shipping alone…he shuddered to thinking about it. Even so, it was really cool of them, though they probably had to rob a bank to pay for it.

"Well, we should call and thank them. Let's get you out of bed and take a wheel around the hospital, see what's up?" Yeah a tour of the hospital was so fun, first, he stopped by the nurse's station, and his cheeks got pinched. Then he stopped by the pediatric ward, and he shared his Pocky with the kids, and then they explored the gardens, although it was more weeds than garden. Finally wrapping up the grand tour at the cafeteria, where he was treated to one of the local dishes, that all looked like crap covered in orange goo.

"Yeah." His dad picked him up like he was a rag doll and placed him gently into a wheelchair. His dad was stronger than he looked, either that or Akihito was just really little.

"You're getting heavy." His dad said, putting him the wheelchair with a little "oomph."

"Don't lie. I've lost weight, despite the Pocky. I don't have much of an appetite."

"Are you wallowing in self-pity? Because you know I didn't raise you like that." He said in that dad voice. He'd wallow in self-doubt, but never self-pity.

"What? As if." He rolled his eyes. "It's just…afghani food is just gross. I want bento and noodles….oh and yakitori from that restaurant at Shibuya station. Ohh….." He started drooling.

"Well, once you're fitted with your prosthetic, we can head home. And then mom can pour hot soup down your throat, and pamper you until you beg for mercy."

"Hahaaha. I'm so ready to go home. I'm sick of being treated like a sick person." They stopped in front of a door, just like any door in the hospital. The plate on the door read "Keir Shelly."

"You ready to see him?" He asked Akihito gently. "Your colleague, from what I understand, was greatly loved. He was one of those people who put others first."

"I wish I could remember. I get flashes of memories, but that's it. I guess…umm.…let me see him alone, ok?"

He wheeled himself into the room and closed the door behind him. Keir was alone, machines rumbled noisily and Keir…Keir looked so…wasted away. He had been so strong, that much he could remember. His face was relaxed, as if he was dreaming of sunbathing on a tropical beach. And Akihito hoped he was.

_No, Akihito, you hold the gun like this._

_But Keir, it's so much cooler if I hold it in one hand._

_With the recoil on this baby, you'll end up hitting yourself in the face with your own arm. You need to use two hands to hold a semi-auto. It will help you aim. Ok?_

_How come I don't get a sub-machine gun like you?_

_Because you'll shoot yourself in the foot. Ready, fire._

_blam!_

_Wow, Akihito, you almost hit the target that time!_

_Shut-up you baka!_

Akihito smiled at his memory. "Keir? It's Akihito." He swallowed. "Umm…well, anyway, uh…." What could he say? Keir was gone, despite the machines keeping him "alive." There was only an empty shell. He was just…..gone. Akihito swallowed the lump in his throat as he felt the wetness on his face again. Damn, he was crying again. "Goodbye Keir. I'll miss you, I think. I just wish I could remember more of our time together." He rolled his wheelchair back and turned to go. "Maybe we'll meet again, in the next life?"

His father met him at the door. "It's good…to say goodbye."

"Yeah. Let's go find mom and walk their so-called garden, I'm in the mood to look at weeds again."

"All right son, anything you want…." He said, as he ruffled his thin patch of hair. "Anything you want."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Two smitten guards ushered Asami, in handcuffs no less, with respect bordering on adoration (he must be oozing pheromones today), into a small grey room with a mirror. Even mice would have issues with the room, seeing as it was only large enough to hold three gleaming silver chairs and one ugly folding table, stained with coffee rings. It reeked of smoke, sweat and possibly the lingering dark emotions of the recently accused.

It was a standard interrogation room, meant to convey a feeling of emptiness and most certainly not a room you would get comfortable in, unless you really liked the minimalist look. Despite the ugly surroundings, Asami felt calm. He wasn't one to get claustrophobic, or even knew what the word meant. There was no reason to get panicky at this point, as if he ever got panicky….well, there was that one time…..

"Nice to see you again, Kuroda-san." Asami said, although it really wasn't. "Are the handcuffs necessary?" He didn't mind the handcuffs, though, as long as they were on someone else.

He wasn't, after all, the kind of man that would reach over and pop the D.A.'s little head off with his bare hands, although he did think about it. Did lawyers bleed red? He always pondered such things, late at night, when he had nothing better to do but chew on toothpicks and think dark thoughts. He wanted the cuffs gone.

He took a seat on one of the chairs, not waiting for the D.A. to offer him one because he certainly wasn't going to ask permission. He was an impatient man. And the longer he stayed here, in this ugly room, the more Kirishima and Suoh would start to panic and eventually blow a gasket. He didn't need his two best men in a foul mood while they minded the store. Suoh was probably looking at his watch every few seconds; as if doing so would speed up time. And "mother-hen," AKA Kirishima would be keeping himself busy reorganizing files he'd just finished organizing five minutes ago, while pushing up his glasses with a middle finger, as if flipping off some invisible specter.

"I'll have them removed if you promise to behave yourself." He replied.

"Com'on we are all friends here, good friends. Whether I behave myself depends, of course, on your conduct, right?" There was veiled warning behind his voice. It wasn't really a warning though. It probably wouldn't be practical to threaten the D.A. when you're a prime suspect in a murder-for-hire case.

"I can vouch for myself. Please remove the cuffs, officer." The cop, who looked so young as to be fresh out of the academy, tentatively removed the cuffs, his sweat beaded down his face like a frosted glass of iced tea in summer. Asami smirked. Yeah, he was oozing pheromones today. Not his fault.

"So I see you've consulted council." He motioned to the man sitting at Asami's right. "One of your lawyers, I'm assuming."

He nodded. Yes, one of his many lawyers. He had several vultures circling him, keeping away any hint of danger of a legal nature from destroying his business or his reputation. "There's nothing wrong with your eyes…your head though….is a different matter." He said, with a little humor in his voice. Real little.

"You should be reminded, Kuroda-sensei, that your presence here constitutes a conflict of interest?" Lawyer-Sensei finally said something, realizing that he should earn his pay, even if Asami didn't really need his help.

"The judge doesn't see it that way." Kuroda replied.

"And why is that?" Lawyer-sensei asked.

"Let's put it this way, I'm the only D.A. that isn't scared shitless of your client." And he tried to look triumphant but only managed to look like a whipped dog.

"Oh?" He replied and adjusted his glasses with his finger. Seems all guys in glasses did that.

He pointed to the huge file. "To get this kind of data on his activities, I've had to work hard, and I don't plan on sharing in the glory when I finally take Asami down."

"You should participate in more team-building exercises." Asami interjected. Kuroda shot him an evil glare.

Lawyer-sensei frowned. "I see, well then, I will hold to judicial disqualification if need be." He said, using some lawyer mumbo jumbo that only seemed to ruffle the D.A.'s feathers.

"Your boy knows his stuff. As it is, when this goes to trial…oh, I should say _if _at this point, I will concede to another attorney to prosecute this case. However, as this is only an interview, I will continue with the proceedings. Are we in agreement?"

Asami whispered in his lawyer's ear for a moment. "I will wave my client's right to recusal, for the time being." More lawyer mumbo jumbo.

Kuroda narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment. "And you have waived your right to remain silent as well, I'm surprised." He stated, flipping open the bulging manila folder. He grinned as he thumbed through the pages. There was so much dirt on this man, decades of dirt in fact. But the man Asami, who walked on clouds and couldn't be touched by mortal men (well not legally anyway), seem to avoid trouble like his clothes were made of Teflon. It was maddening.

"I like to hear myself talk." Asami said.

"You know everyone?" He asked, waving his hand to the two guards and one detective standing against the wall. There weren't enough chairs, not that it mattered. He didn't plan on being here long, even if he had to pull out his trump card. He was already sick of the place, and sick of the company.

"I'm not interested in exchanging New Year's Greetings with anyone here, so I don't need that information." He replied. "How's your golf game these days?" He asked.

"Subpar, no pun intended. I haven't seen you out on the links lately, why is that?" He asked, pushing the paperwork to the side and leaning back, in a pose that signaled _hey, I'm your friend, so we can have a nice long chat, right? Just between friends?_

"Aw, did you miss me? I'm touched." He replied, with cynicism.

"I'm sure work is keeping you busy?" Kuroda asked, although he wasn't really interested in the answer, he was just making small talk, electron microscope small talk.

"Yes, that…and well, it seems I'm not as…free to come and go as I please," He replied, chuckling at the irony. Yeah, he was a witty guy, might as well enjoy his own wit, since no one else seemed to get the joke.

"And why is that?" He said, his demeanor darkened when he heard Asami's menacing chuckle, at least he thought it was menacing. When Asami chuckled, it sounded like the Joker from Batman, that kind of chuckle that made your blood run cold, as if you'd been injected with ice water.

"Rioters keep blocking the streets. Can't you do something about that?" He asked, giving the D.A. a questioning glance.

"They aren't rioting, they are conducting peaceful demonstrations." He said.

"And the difference is….."

"Irrelevant." He replied, standing up quickly and crossing over to sit on the rickety desk, probably not very smart.

The image of the table breaking and Kuroda landing on his butt almost made Asami laugh out loud. "I don't think so. The public is throwing tantrums and hindering the natural flow of business, mine and everyone else's."

"Is the Anti-Yakuza law a hindrance to your business?" Kuroda asked. He got up from the table and sat back down on his silver chair. The guy had ants in his pants.

"It's only inconvenient. It's difficult to meet with clients when you have an angry mob of NEETS jumping on your car." He replied.

"And the way you avoid being inconvenienced is by going into hiding, neh?" He said.

"It wasn't my first choice."

"No…no one goes in a cage by their own choice, now do they?" He asked. "Why did you go into hiding?"

Asami's mouth twitched. "I'm keeping a low profile, for my own protection."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Someone lumped me in with all those other tattooed yahoos, just because my businesses do well, but that doesn't mean I'm under the syndicate's protection. I'm just really good at what I do."

"You have done very well for yourself. And of course, people begin to speculate….."

"They can speculate all they want. I'm just a businessman." A corrupt businessman, but Asami wouldn't get into semantics.

"You keep telling yourself that, Asami, and someday it might come true." Ah...Kuroda was smarter than he looked, but not by much.

"So Asami, you want to tell me why you think Hakatora deserved to die?" He asked suddenly.

"My client refueses to…" Lawyer-sama started to say but closed his mouth quickly when Asami glared at him.

"I didn't know the man personally, so whether he deserved to die isn't up to me…..now is it?"

"I have video that puts you at the scene of his execution." He smirked as he thumbed through the paperwork again.

Kuroda was lying, he was lying and his breath stank. "And what scene was that? You would need to refresh my memory, if you would."

He looked at his notes. "March 15th. Fu fu. The Ides of March, seems a popular day for executions, no?"

"I'm not a walking calendar, but I'm sure my secretary could enlighten you on where I was that day."

"I know you were there." He said darkly.

"And I know you're lying." He replied quickly.

"What makes you think I'm lying?" Kuroda asked.

"Your lips are moving, aren't they? Besides, it's an interrogation tactic, is it not, to make the suspect think their case is a lost cause?"

"Who says you're being interrogated?"

"Then I'm free to go, now that our little chat is over?" He pushed his chair back.

"I'm afraid not."

"I've been in custody for 18 hours." He said. "As much as I enjoy your hospitality, I have work piling up. So, either charge me, or release me."

"I do have evidence that will be your final nail in your coffin."

"Oooo, such dark emotions. Do you wear all black and listen to _Dir En Grey _when you're not harassing the innocent?

"Innocent? You? I know you ordered the hit on Hakatora, and I aim to find out why."

"You should aim higher….didn't your mother ever tell you that?" Asami said in jest.

"My relationship with my mother is none of your business." He replied, although he realized they were getting off topic, but he couldn't seem to ignore Asami's taunts.

"How is your family, by the way? Congratulations on your new baby, did you get my gift? I'm sure cute runs in the family."

"I'm getting cuter by the minute." Actually he was getting more irritated by the minute.

"Yes, I can see that, something about your eyes….what are you thinking right now? Something dirty perhaps?" Asami said, and leaned forward a little and gave that seductive look. The look that would make even a monk surrender his chastity. Yeah, that look.

"You can flirt all you want, I'm immune to your charms." He replied.

"Then why are you blushing?" He asked, and leaned back again, putting his arms over his head in mini-Super Asami seductive pose. Everyone instantly tensed and just as instantly relaxed when he took a good stretch, showing his sculpted muscles through his white button down shirt.

But Kuroda had seen it all before, he wasn't going to back down just because Asami flirted with him. He wasn't that adolescent. "Speaking of blushing…how is that little boy toy…er….I mean housekeeper of yours? I'm still owed that favor for cleaning up that mess in Hong Kong."

"He's no longer my housekeeper." Asami was actually caught off guard by that comment, although he didn't show it.

"Ah yes, that's right. He's in Afghanistan. I understand he's met with a terrible accident, involving a landmine? Poor boy, I'm sure you feel for him."

"I only watch the local news so….." He said.

"Now I believe you're the one who is lying."

"Believe what you want." He replied emphatically.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" He asked, breaking the tension that still hung in the air.

"I admire a man who relishes in his vice, so go ahead…..I still enjoy the smell of it."

"So, do I need to call in that favor?" He asked, and blew out a puff of smoke that in the confined space, felt like a weighted cloud of dust.

Asami chuckled. "I believe I paid back that favor."

"And how do you assume that." Again, that chuckle made Kuroda tense.

"I'm letting you smoke, aren't I?" There was a hint of finality in that statement.

"Touché." He cleared his throat and stabbed out his cigarette, as if punishing it for ruining his lungs, not that he cared about his health. If he did, he wouldn't be trying to bring down Asami that was for sure. "Hakatora's murder…weren't you pissed when you found out you'd been double crossed?"

"Pissed is a child's emotion. And since I've never crossed paths with the man in the first place, I don't see how I could be double crossed in the second place." He replied. He had been mildly annoyed, but not pissed.

"Wasn't he someone you could count on to make….things easier for you?" Kuroda asked.

"The people I count on are all under my employ." Asami replied. Tough Mob Boss rule number 1: Be nice to your employees or they will stab you in the back, literally.

"And they would do anything for you, I'm sure."

"I haven't had to test that theory." Asami said. Don't test what you already know.

"So you must buy their loyalty? Or do you use something else to bind your employees to you?"

Why was asshole D.A. wasting his time with human resource issues? "I can buy whatever fits my needs, loyalty included. But if they feel obligated to me for other reasons, well…they haven't shared that with me."

"Like threats?" He asked.

"I don't need to threaten good employees, what you do with yours is your business, isn't it?"

"So you're saying you bought Hakatora's loyalty?" Asked Kuroda.

"No, you just said that." This conversation was going nowhere.

"I'm inferring that you bought Hakatora's loyalty." Kuroda said, accusingly.

"I believe the word you're looking for is implied." And he chuckled again.

"Are you the grammar police?" Kuroda asked, his face reddened, either in anger or embarrassment, Asami couldn't be sure.

"I'll leave the policing to you." Asami said, and went to reach into his shirt pocket. The entire room tensed for a moment and then relaxed when they saw it was only his plastic box of toothpicks. So much unneeded pressure in the room.

"I know you ordered the hit! You might as well confess, Asami!" Kuroda yelled suddenly and hit the rickety table with his hands. It started to wobble, threatening to spill its contents. Asami reached out a hand to steady it.

He flipped a toothpick into his mouth. He was surprised the cops let him keep his toothpicks, seeing the manner in which they could be used, at least the way he used them. "Are we going to play good cop/bad cop now? I thought you gave up the force when you finally passed the bar after the seventh time." Asami turned to the detective, who was the silent type. "Does that mean you're the good cop? You better reign in your boy. He's getting grouchy."

Silent-type detective said nothing, which wasn't surprising.

"We've had you under surveillance, we've had you followed. Hakatora got in your way, didn't he?" He yelled, as if that would be more convincing. Which is wasn't. Kuroda was really bad at this, and it showed, as he was sweating like a race horse.

But Asami didn't let on, in fact he was rather amused. "I suppose you'd give up this line of questioning if I show you something interesting?" He asked.

"What would that be?" Kuroda replied.

"First get rid of the cops behind the glass. This goes no further than this room, understood?" He ordered, rolling his toothpick between his fingers, waiting for an answer.

"You must be out of your mind." Kuroda remarked, warningly.

He nodded. "On the contrary, people say I'm a genius." He grinned. A grin so large, he showed his eye-teeth. "Deal?"

"All right." He nodded to the glass and waited. There was silence except for the uneven breathing of the men in the room and the grinding of Asami's toothpick in his mouth. A cell phone rang and Kuroda answered. He only said one word. "Done."

"I have some interesting photos taken of Hakatora doing some rather shady things with some really shady people." He said, and leaned back, trying to get comfortable in the chairs, although that was probably a lost cause.

"I would be interested in those interesting photos." Kuroda said.

The lawyer pulled out the photos from his briefcase and handed them carefully to Asami, who flipped them like a deck of cards towards Kuroda. They fanned out on the table as the D.A. stared at them meticulously.

"And these are…"

"Photos of the bribe. Hakatora was making an exchange. See that guy right there?" He pointed to a young man in the photo. "That's the syndicate's errand boy. The syndicate was being paid off by Hakatora to stop their blackmarket weapons dealing in Tokyo during the election season."

"And….?"

"The Anti-Yakuza law passed. And the syndicate got pissed."

"And you know this how?"

"The word gets around." He flicked his toothpick in the trash. "I believe this casts, what you call reasonable doubt on your case?" He took a breath. "Unless you like wasting taxpayer money, because as I see it, your evidence against me is flimsy."

"And you would be right." Kuroda narrowed his eyes. "Who ordered the hit? Off-the-record, of course."

"That I don't know." He got up to leave. "Don't fling those photos around, we don't want to sully Hakatora's _good_ name. Let's not bring anymore grief to his family if we can possibly help it." He said sarcastically. "They might not react well, and it could mean the end….of your livelihood."

He sighed and nodded. "I was this close, you know?" He said dejectedly.

"No, Kuroda-san, you weren't close...not close at all."

Kuroda chuckled, but his chuckles sounded like stifled sobs. "See you on the links." Kuroda said.

"Then, I'm free to leave, seeing as, we're done here?" Asami asked, although he already knew the answer as he was standing by the door.

"Yes, yes. You're free to go." He replied half-heartedly, with a dismissive wave. He looked like he was going to head straight to a bar next.

"Continue to do your best." Asami said, and gave him a little wink.

"Asami…..keep your nose clean, will ya?"

Asami smiled. "Squeaky clean." He slammed the door behind him and immediately chuckled.

Cops-0

Asami-1.

Game over.

_The lion would sleep tonight, just like it says in the song._


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Somehow, Akihito had expected Tokyo to look different, as if the city would have grown up, or been painted a different color while he was gone. The only one who had changed was him, really. It was like he went away Akihito, and came back Akihito's double. A doppelganger who played the part of the former Akihito, who had wished to keep his demise a secret.

But it seemed everyone knew his secret, even the grocer, the baker, the bento box maker. Well, it wasn't easy to keep peg-leg hush-hush. He wasn't embarrassed, he just really hated pity. Really really really really hated it. And no matter how many trips to physical therapy he took, he still had a little limp, and the _poor little thing_ stares from even elderly people that went along with it. Can't be helped.

Anyway, it was just another thing he had to deal with, but it was better than being dead, way better than being dead, because really, life was kind of sweet. Well, for the most part except that whole no boyfriend thing. Oh well.

At any rate, he was wearing his cool leg today as he left his parent's house to meet with his friends. It was more metal or carbon steel or some kind of compound chemical he didn't understand (he failed chemistry) but it allowed him to bounce around like a bunny rabbit. He was only supposed to wear it during more active pastimes like field work or running, but his non-cool leg felt weird and made him look feeble so he didn't wear it often. This one, the cool leg, gave him almost super human powers, well, kind of, but it didn't look like a leg. It was u-shaped and black and made him look like a cyborg. Neat.

He only had a month to get his shit together for his next assignment, which was in Brazil, of all places. At first he thought Natgeo was throwing him a pity party when he got word he still had a job. He just assumed the position would be behind a desk somewhere, assisting other adventurers in their quests, like the fairy from Zelda. But no, they loved his snow leopard photos and didn't think a missing leg was a handicap. Now that he sported the cool leg, he understood why.

So he bounced into the bar, sort of, to meet up with his two best buddies, to drink and talk, and drink, and talk, and then eventually stop talking because they drank so much, they passed out.

"You're mom finally let you escape their evil clutches, eh?" Takato asked taking a long gulp of a huge can of beer. Takato, as was typical, was early and had started without them, which mean they needed to catch up.

"She was stuffing me with porridge just this morning. I feel like I'm going to explode." She had stuffed him so much, that he actually gained back the weight he lost when he was in a coma. He didn't look like a little skinny kid anymore. Well, he still looked like a kid, but not a skinny one, that much hadn't changed.

"Then you don't mind if I eat your spicy curry." Kou asked, and reached over only to have his hand slapped away. Kou rubbed his hand and pouted like a scolded child.

"Hands off, I didn't say I wasn't hungry, just that porridge is gross." His mom had the inclination to add vegetables to the porridge, and green ones at that. So when it finally reached the table, it looked like something a baby threw up. Not appetizing.

"I bet she said something like _but spicy food will upset your tummy." _Takato teased, finishing his beer and looking around for the waiter, who was MIA.

"You know my mother too well, Takato." Akihito's beer was also empty, which was beginning to be a crisis, since he was getting a nice buzz, and didn't want to spoil it now.

"I see your wearing the cool leg. So this means I won't win again if I challenge you at Dance-Dance Revolution?" Kou asked.

"Sore loser, I can't help it if cool legmakes me jump higher, and move faster. It's the design." Akihito replied, taking a big bite of very orange spicy curry, wishing that damn waiter would move his damn ass faster and bring his damn beer right now, because now his mouth was on fire.

"Well, I still say that it makes you look like a cyborg." Takato said. "You know like The Terminator." And he said "Terminator" with a German accent.

"_Come with me if you want to live." _Akihito replied, in his equally goofy German accent, lowering his voice almost a full octave. He coughed after that, that kind of hurt.

They all laughed, and clinked their beer glasses together, even though they were empty.

"Do you like looking like a cyborg?" Kou asked. He was curious as to how Akihito had been taking this whole missing limb thing, but judging by his happy demeanor, he had accepted it.

"I don't dislike it. I don't limp much when I'm wearing it, so if I wear pants, you can't tell. Modern medicine is really amazing." He replied, finally deciding that he might as well put out his mouth fire with water, since beer was so scarce the bar must be hoarding it.

"Do you always look at the brighter side of things?" It wasn't that he thought Akihito would pull the "poor little me" attitude, but it was almost if the trauma of the last months hadn't affected him at all, and it puzzled him.

"You're saying you want me to wallow in my own self-pity?" Now that wasn't something he was going to do, because for one, his dad would kill him and number two, he was alive. Making number one null-and-void. His colleagues were gone, and he was here, with a job, with a future. So to wallow in self-pity would be like dishonoring their memory, right? So that wasn't even an option. Anyway, while he was thinking these deep thoughts, wondering why he had to keep explaining to clueless Kou THAT HE WAS NOT SAD ABOUT LOSING HIS LEG, he kept looking around, trying to catch the waiter's attention.

"What are you staring at?" Kou asked looking in the same direction he was.

"I'm looking for our waiter, I want another beer. My buzz is weakening." It hadn't been really strong to begin with, seeing as he only had one beer.

"Do you think he's cute?" He asked. He was kind of curious, no not in that way, but he did wonder what Akihito's type was. Buff? Beefcake? Glasses? #1 Host?

"What are you, my matchmaker? Anyway, I'm not here to pick up a date." He was annoyed. Yes, he was kind of horny, but really, he wasn't going to pick up some waiter who couldn't even be bothered with their table, anyway. Lousy waiter-san.

"So then why did you come to Tokyo, anyway?" Aw, he kind of wanted to play matchmaker, and he was also puzzled as to why. Maybe he didn't have anything to do now that Japan had blocked most of the porn sites he used to be able to access. Damn prudes.

"New cameras. My old ones met with a terrible accident." He gave a little wink, something he didn't used to do before. "NatGeo gave me an allowance to replace them." Yeah, new cameras! Goodbye film, hello all digital. Please take care of me!

"So you came to Tokyo to shop and not to see us, your best friends." He pouted again. He had that pouting boy look down.

"I'm here aren't I? Besides, the cameras weren't my only reason. Dinner is my treat, since you did send me five cases of Pocky. You guys are crazy." He probably shouldn't have said that, because now his friends would probably order expensive sushi and the big bottle of sake.

"We didn't send you five cases of Pocky." He stated, finally getting the waiter's attention who carried over their fresh beers like he was bringing them a gift.

"Huh?" He asked, thoroughly confused, as usual. "I thought…."

"Maybe it was your publisher, you know that guy?" He opened his beer. "Another round, if you would, waiter-san." He told the waiter, since Akihito was buying.

"No, he sent flowers, red roses, as a matter of fact. What a jokester. My mom thought it was from a girlfriend I didn't tell her about."

"Awkward!" Kou said. His parents still didn't know about his preference and Akihito hadn't been inclined to tell him.

"So who sent the Pocky then?" Takato wondered aloud.

"It was sent anonymously." Akihito replied.

"Wow, a mystery lover." Takato said, jokingly.

Kou had a moment of epiphany, a rare thing for him. "It was that guy, Asami."

"How can….how…. no, he wouldn't….we broke up." Akihito said, trying not to choke on his beer.

"He called me, after your mishap was in the paper." Kou replied. Takato and Akihito stopped breathing for a moment and looked utterly dismayed. Akihito's eyes widened, if they got any wider, his eye balls would fall out.

"What did that perverted belittling pretentious crazy cheap bastard want? To rub my nose in the fact I can't keep out of trouble?" Akihito said. He was getting a little pissed now and not pissed drunk that would be for later.

"Are you a walking thesaurus now, Aki?" Kou asked.

"I ran out of adjectives to call him, so yeah." He replied. "That bastard…."

"He was concerned, actually more than concerned. He sounded like he was going to blow a gasket." Kou stated. It was so long ago, that phone call, but it was memorable. It wasn't often an evil crime lord called you for a nice little chat.

"I doubt it." Akihito said, and downed his beer and called the waiter over. Time for something stronger.

"I told him to stay away from you." Kou said, hoping the night wouldn't end with Akihito passed out and having to drag him home.

"Good." Akihito said. Although he was kind of touched that his "ex" or whatever he was supposed to label that damn bastard still cared enough to find out what had happened. But to send Pocky? What the hell did that mean?

"And he said…." Kou started to say before Aki grabbed him by the collar, hard.

"No….I don't want to know what he said!" He was getting pissier by the minute. The waiter appeared at that point and gave him the _quiet down or I will kick you out _look. "Three shochu please." He said, calmly, letting go of his friend's wrinkled lapel.

"Too bad, I'm telling you….he said…uh…..that _you would still be his concern until you both departed from this world, _something to that effect.I think he's regretting letting you go, Aki, not that I'm encouraging the relationship, nope…..not one bit."

"Yikes, that sounds like a stalker or something." Takato said, finally getting a word in.

"Either that or he really cares about you, which kind of makes me choke. The guy has anger issues or something." Kou said.

"Huh….well, then why did he dump me? If he's such a caring man….which I doubt." He replied.

"I don't know why I should tell you this, because you know that I know, that you know….that it's better you aren't together with him. He's a dangerous man."

"That's putting it mildly." He sighed loudly. Yeah very mildly. It was probably good Akihito didn't know the things Asami did in the course of a business day. Like paperwork and drinking Frappuccino's from Starbucks, among other things…you know….like standing around and looking cool.

Lame waiter finally came with their drinks and Akihito sipped it, enjoying the burn. All this new information was making the past come back. The way he felt when he was dumped. The lump in his throat when he was told "his services" were no longer needed. All that pain. It was all back. Dammit.

His friends were looking at him, studying his face, wondering if this line of conversation should just die right here, right now.

"Ok, fine, tell me. But it's not going to change the fact that I'm mad at him." Akihito finally said.

"Mad is better than feeling nothing, isn't it?" Kou said, and they all looked at him as if he had horns growing out of his head.

"No, it's not, I want to feel nothing, nothing would be better. Nothing would be better than having my heart stomped all over. If I felt nothing, I wouldn't be sitting here, talking about my love life with two straight guys."

"We don't care, straight, crooked, whatever. You've been through too much in the past months to be lonely. If he is what you need, maybe…." Kou said, gently.

Akihito downed his drink, probably a mistake. "No. I don't want that life again. I'm leaving in a month for another job. Natgeo is crazy, but I don't have time for this kind of shit!"

"So….you don't want me to tell you?"

"Yes…no…yes….I don't know what the hell I want!" He yelled, and the waiter gave him a snotty glare.

Kou sighed. "It's better you know why he sent you away, Akihito…I think..well…he said he sent you away…to protect you. You were being targeted."

"He sent me away….to…that's so stupid! That asshole! He could have told me, that bastard."

"He said, and I quote….because this stuck in my mind….. _don't you know I wanted him by my side, but I had reasons for what I did…_and he yelled and everything. It was kind of scary."

"He wanted me by his side?" He snorted. "No! He wants me to run after him, like a lost dog after his master. I could never be part of his life, he and I….."

"Are you sure that's all you meant to him?" Takato said. This conversation was getting odder by the minute.

He shrugged. "I don't know, and I don't care."

Kou looked triumphant. "Well, I think I got in the last word, though."

"What did you say?" Akihito said, and signaled the waiter.

"I told him to grow a pair." He replied, chucking madly.

"Fu fu, and you're still breathing? Yikes. That took balls. No pun intended."

"So Aki….now what? I mean, if someone confessed to me like that, and I still liked them back I would…."

"Who said I liked him back? He didn't confess to me. He didn't confess at all. Feilong was right, he never saw me as an equal. He just lost his temper because his little toy got broken. Wah wah."

"You don't sound very convincing." Kou said.

"Nope, I'm not convinced either, Aki." Takato agreed.

"Whatever. This conversation is over. I'm still pissed, and I'm not going to go chasing after him just because he sent me Pocky, which is the weirdest sentence I think I've ever said in my life."

"Wise words, Akihito. Maybe it is better this way. I'm sorry I brought up the past."

"Well, the past is in the behind, right? Akihito said. "I mean the past is behind us, right?"

They laughed. "No more for you."

"Aw, you guys are so mean, but you're still the bestest friends ever." He paid the bill quickly and walked unsteadily towards the door.

Two beers + one shochu = incoherent Akihito.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The day's light had long since waned after turning the sky a deep-red, which Asami missed because he was too busy in one meeting after another to actually look out the window. Now Asami and company were headed towards the docks for a late night gathering, also known as, another meeting.

He sneezed once and it was so loud that Kirishima checked his forehead with the back of his hand. Sporting a panicked look and with his other hand on his phone in case he needed to call the hospital, Kirishima checked his temperature again, just to put his mind at ease. Because as everyone knows, tough mob bosses always die of fevers before they die of anything else, right?

Asami shot him a glare but Kirishima ignored it. He was probably the only one in the world who could ignore one of Asami's glares. Kirishima relaxed. "You don't have a fever. Did you get cold?" He asked, knowing full well that colds are caused by viruses and not by sitting in the rain or sleeping on the floor. It's just one of those old wives tales, real old.

"You know an idiot never catches a cold." He replied, giving him the _you better not come at me with a rectal thermometer because I'm not a uke _look, which was rather hard to describe. "And I'm not sick, mother-hen, I only sneezed once."

He laughed, well sort of chuckled, because Kirishima had his laugh box removed when he became Asami's secretary. "Could be someone is thinking about you?" Another myth, the origins of which were lost as time progressed.

"Maybe." He said hopefully. And of course he was hoping _you-know-who was _thinking of him (he was but not in the way Asami wanted). Because at this moment he couldn't get _you-know-who _out of his mind since he learned "his boy" had returned to Japan. Those photos ended up being his get-out-of-jail free card, and Akihito should at least be given something for his trouble, even if that something was a night of (cough) mind blowing sex. Well, that's what he would want, if Asami deserved a reward, which he didn't. (Sadistic grin.)

"Why wasn't I informed the meeting was moved to the docks?" He asked Kirishima, because meetings at the docks at midnight 99.8% of the time (and yes, he calculated it once), went sour, or left a bitter taste in his mouth. Either way, these clandestine meetings were hard to swallow.

"I just got word. Do you have some issue with it?" Kirishima asked.

"I'm wary, that's all. The Syndicate is still hoping to feed my sorry ass to the fishes." The fishes in Tokyo Bay would eat anything, his sorry ass included, seeing as there had been a lull in the number of bodies dumped there lately. Even assassins have an off day.

"The Tomen Group wants to sample the cargo before deciding on a new contract." It all sounded like _wa-wa-wa-wa, _like the adult's voice in the Charlie Brown cartoons to Asami because the triple grande no-foam cinnamon dolce latte with caramel drizzle and an extra shot hadn't kicked in yet. "You have some reason not to trust them?"

_Had to keep the barista guessing._

"The people I trust I can count on one hand." He said, rather irritated, because he hadn't gotten much sleep in a while (maybe it was too much Starbucks). Anyway, he kept having strange dreams that woke him in the night, er….day, since he worked nights. Something was nagging his sub-conscience, and no amount of booze would stop the nagging.

"Get people to scout out the location beforehand. Do a bomb sweep. Meetings in cargo ships at night tend to blow up in people's faces." And he meant that literally.

"Of course. I don't anticipate any problems though. This is standard for their group, they believe in quality control." Of course they did, they were Japanese and been trained in Kaizen.

"Well. . .I do….and that's why I'm still alive and kicking."

"Of course, I'll take care of it right away." He asked, picking up his cell phone to immediately to put Asami's orders into action, because he was like Mary Poppins. Practically perfect in every way.

"Good." He replied, watching the Tokyo skyline whizz by him in the distance, its lights flickering like neon at a seedy diner. He chuckled. "Maybe I'm just getting jumpy."

_Word of warning, if the lion gets jumpy, run._

-BVF-

"Hey Kou, have you seen my winter jacket around? I was sure it was in storage, but I couldn't find it." Akihito said, rummaging around in some boxes that were all labeled _Akihito's shit._ Real helpful.

"Yeah, it's in the closet, I think." He found the jacket under a pile of laundry (not hanging in the closet) and threw it to Akihito. Guess Kou didn't do laundry often because he was...wait for it...too busy looking at porn.

It was winter now in lovely Tokyo, and it got cold because that's what happens in winter. On top of that, Akihito's _war wounds_ as he started to call them, ached when it got cold, ached when it rained, ached when it was cloudy, ached when there was a slight breeze…well, they pretty much ached. It was going to be a long month before he got to nice warm Brazil. Sunbathing on the beach sounded so good, even though he was supposed to go there for work.

"Thanks." He replied and put the jacket on. It smelled faintly of tobacco, Asami's Dunhills.

"Wow, you did get a lot of cameras. I didn't think you needed that many." Kou said, surveying the boxes and cases scattered amongst the laundry and other unmentionables. Kou could use a maid or a wife. Or a wife that wore a maid's outfit? A wife that wore an apron with nothing underneath? How about a girl that would actually go out with him? Anyway, his apartment was a mess and Akihito's shit on top of the shit already there wasn't helping.

"There's only four cameras, the rest are lenses and light meters and stuff. I lost everything." Well, he didn't lose everything, it got blown up.

"Yeah, that kind of sucks." Kou replied, knowing how much those cameras had meant to him. But Akihito was smiling as he surveyed his new equipment. His eyes sparkled like Akihito was a kid in a candy store. And he kind of was, a kid, not a candy store. Akihito's candy was camera equipment.

"Hey…." Akihito said, after he put his hands in his pockets to get warm. "What's this?"

"Hmm?"

"That camera is in this pocket. I thought it was with the stuff that got blown up." He said, holding the camera in his hands. His eyes started to glisten over, as if he was going to cry, which he probably was.

"What camera?" Kou asked.

"The camera Asami gave me when….." And here came the tears down his cheeks.

"Oh shit, Akihito." He said gently.

"Damn bastard. . .that's right, I was going to smack that smug smirk off his face when I got back and throw it in his face." He shrugged. "Dammit. Why do I always cry over that asshole!"

"You're going to go see him? You're really going to do that?" Kou asked.

"N…No, yes..no...I don't know. Besides, he's gone into hiding or something, not that I care what happened to that damn bastard!" He yelled, trying to convince himself more than anything. "Why did he go into hiding, anyway?"

"Isn't he like a gangster or something?"

"It's better you don't know."

"Well, if he is, then the Anti-Yakuza laws probably have made trouble for him." He said. "A while ago, there was a big turf war and a whole bunch of civilians got hurt."

"You're kidding. Wow, a lot has happened while I was gone." Yeah, a lot happened. He missed sixteen episodes of The Mentalist and he still was trying to catch up.

"Your ex even got arrested. I'm not sure what happened there." He said, because he usually didn't pay attention to the news because he was..wait for it...to busy watching porn.

"What was he arrested for?" Akihito asked. He had enough of rummaging through boxes looking for his swim trunks. He was just going to have to buy some. How was he going to swim with a prosthetic? And wasn't he going to Brazil to work and not lounge around on the beach?

"The murder of Hakatora something or other, he's some guy that's a Diet member or whatever. Anyway, Asami wasn't held long, they released him."

"Hakatora? That's the guy I took photos of making a bribe. He's not squeaky clean. He's a crooked politician." He replied, sitting down on his futon on the floor, even though it was hard to find amongst the pile of boxes.

"Are you saying some politicians are actually legit?" He asked.

"As if." Akihito replied. "I wonder what Asami's mug shot looked like." And he grinned manically.

"That's an evil grin if ever I've seen one, you can be scary Akihito." He said, taken aback by Akihito's crazy face to go with his maniacal grin.

Akihito laughed. "What if I gave him back the camera? It's not like he'd be upset by it or anything, he probably look at me funny then have his bouncers or bodyguards or whatever shove me out the door."

"Would it make you feel better to give him back the camera?" Kou asked.

"I'm not upset." He said, even though his eyes were all red.

"Again, I'm not convinced because obviously, you're crying." He said.

"I'm not crying, I have allergies, and these boxes are dusty." He wiped his nose on his dirty sleeve.

"AGAIN, not convinced." He said and laughed. Seeing Akihito crying over a guy made him want to cry.

"What's funny is, it's been months since I've seen him, how come I can't forget him and move on?" He asked, wiping the tears from his face. "I guess it's not funny, but you know what I mean."

"What am I your therapist?" Kou tried to joke, but frowned when Akihito shot him a glare. He was serious.

"Am I doomed forever to compare everyone else to him?" He sighed. "You know that guy Feilong? He carried a torch for Asami for seven years! I mean really, it's so stupid. What kind of insanity is this world we live in?"

"I don't know because I can't get a girl to go out with me more than two times." He said dejectedly.

"That's because you confess to them too early, and it creeps them out." Akihito replied.

"You think so?" He asked. "Then maybe I should…."

"What am I your therapist?" He joked.

"Touché."

"What do I do about the damn fuckin' camera?" He said, and shoved it back in his pocket.

"Mail it to him it little itty bitty pieces?" He offered.

"Yeah, that's an idea." Akihito replied.

"Didn't you say it's better to forget about him?"

"I've forgotten a lot this year, the accident, Keir, Topkay, I can hardly remember my time with them. How come my memories of him weren't wiped out?" He put his hands over his eyes, as if willing the memories to go away. "How come it's so hard to forget him?"

"Because you were in love. Your friends can see it, why can't you?"

"Then I'm just like Feilong. I love a man that doesn't love me back." He said, and the tears started flowing again. They just wouldn't stop.

"That I know isn't true." Kou replied.

"What makes you think so?" He asked.

"Because Akihito, he's a man that doesn't use words to show love. He was so afraid of losing you, that he pushed you away to protect you." Kou said.

"Then, we are just doomed to be apart, I guess, because his world hasn't changed. So…."

"So, it's just as dangerous as before?" He asked.

Akihito shrugged. "I just have to move on, like he told me to do in the beginning. I guess, this time, for once, I have to follow his orders."

"I'm sorry, Akihito, I wish there was something I could say."

I guess I want..what I can't have. What I know isn't good for me. It's like a giant sundae. You know it isn't good for you, but you want it anyway."

"Sleep on it, will you? Maybe it will become clearer in the morning." Kou said.

He took the camera out again, twirling it around in his hands. "Yeah." He said quietly and shrugged. "It will be clearer in the morning, I guess. But I still want to smack that smug smirk off his face."

"Violence makes baby Buddha cry." Kou said and laughed.

"Very funny." He said sarcastically.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

A cold grayish mist, because mist was always gray except when it wasn't, rolled over the docks as Asami arrived in his equally ashen colored BMW. (He wanted gold to match his eyes, but they didn't have that color, booo..) The only light in this scene of murky gray was the orange glow coming from a flickering overhead lamp, and the equally orange glow of a burning cigarette in the distance. His men were standing by the gangplank, two gray unmoving specters in the dark, made darker still by the fog's touch in the stillness of the night.

_Why was his world always gray?_

A distant fog-horn sounded almost forlorn, beckoning ships to come visit it in its loneliness, accompanied by the harbor bell as it rocked gently with the waves. It was so cliché, this scene. Like he'd stepped into an old black and white movie and was now at the mercy of an over-worked and under-paid circa 1930s scriptwriter. And said scriptwriter was laughing at him, given the ominous setting. He couldn't help but feel wary and couldn't shake that feeling that within the fog…was death. Maybe because he'd been reading too many Stephen King novels lately or maybe because his instincts were never wrong.

"The sweep was clear?" He asked, checking the bullets in his gun a third time, because he was, after all, a cautious guy.

"Yes, Asami-sama. It was clear." Kirishima replied.

"We are meeting with the same people from the group?" He asked.

"Yes, there have been no changes, other than the location." Kirishima was a _yes man_, and received his B.Y.S. (Bachelor of Yes Men Studies) at Yes MenUniversity, which happened to be next door to Tough Mob Boss School. Convenient.

"You'll remain here, is that understood?" He ordered firmly. If he wasn't firm Kirishima would follow him around like a puppy dog, so the best place for him was the car with the windows rolled down, where he wouldn't get into trouble. Kirishima was, after all, the heir to the throne, seeing as how Asami didn't have a child to take over the family business, for reasons of his own. Something along the lines of not liking girls…they were too noisy or something.

"Yes, Asami-sama. But might I ask….." Kirishima was lucky it was dark, because he probably had that scary scary face again, given that he had almost, but not quite, questioned his instructions.

"No, you may not ask. As my 2nd, you will follow my orders, agreed?" Asami said his voice sounding raw and irritated, perhaps from the moisture in the air or perhaps from the fact he was just plain irritated.

"Of course, Asami-sama." Better not argue with him, he was in one of his foul moods and you know what that meant….a one-way ticket to the bottom of Tokyo Bay if you crossed him. The bottom of Tokyo Bay was a nice place to visit but you wouldn't want to live there.

The chilly night air enveloped him as he stepped out of the car and was immediately flanked by his two best bodyguards. He felt powerful, when they walked beside him. It made his already inflated ego expand more in the presence of these men, who were among the few he could count on. They didn't speak nor did he, as there was nothing to say. But they all felt it, the rising anxiety that comes with midnight rendezvous in the shadowy dark that was their world.

_Why can't they meet in a restaurant like normal people?_

"Enough with the dark and gloomy crap." Asami said finally, as they arrived in the cargo hold, which smelled like urine combined with rust and almost overpowered the fresh smell of the ocean, which could still be faintly detected this far into the bowels of the ship. And, of course, everything was gray. The containers, the floor, the paint on the walls, the suits of his men. The only color being his gold eyes and his pale yellow tie. "After this I want a vacation, in the tropics." He wanted to walk on sunshine, if that was all possible. And if it wasn't, Kirishima would figure out how it could be done.

"The wife was talking about Borneo. She said it sounded like heaven on earth." Akira said and Asami almost choked thinking of about that guy being married, given his profession. When he first met Akira's better half, he was taken aback by her beauty first and her wit second. She shared Akira's interest in dark subjects, as she was Tokyo's expert on all things black and gloomy. She was the pied piper of the emo crowd in the Shinjuku district, a dominatrix so accomplished there was a six-month waiting period for an appointment. Talk about finding your soul mate. The thought of the two of them, in black bathing suits, frolicking on the beach in Borneo, almost made him smile. Almost, but not quite.

"Sounds nice." He replied as he waited impatiently for his guests. "Anywhere is fine, as long as it's warm and has a Starbucks."

His men chuckled. Well, not really, but they did make some noise that could be passed for laughter.

Four men arrived in the hold then. One impeccably dressed, while the other three look like cheap gunmen with bulges sticking out of their clothes, and not the ones in their pants. A dog and pony show, where the only spectators were Asami and company. They stared at Asami and his men for a moment, as if they weren't sure they were in the right place. Their eyes betrayed themselves as they swept the small cargo hold, as if looking for a way out, possible danger or just the bathroom.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Asami finally said, and bowed, just low enough to convey respect, but not low enough that his eyes strayed from the four men. Kurosaka, the head of the group was sweating, despite the chilly night air. Either he had a fever, or …something was off. "You pick swell hours for a visit." He continued.

Asami glanced quickly to Suoh who gave him the raised pinky sign, which didn't mean he wanted tea. Suoh, the most observant bodyguard in the universe, noticed something was off too. His men were already on alert, although their demeanor didn't change, which wasn't surprising since they always looked like mannequins from a big-and-tall store.

His bow was returned. "Asami-san, good to see you again. I trust you've been well?"

"Very well, considering the state of affairs these days, and you Kurosaka-sama?" He replied, in his polite voice, although on the inside he wanted to say _cut the crap and show me the money._

"As well as can be expected." He replied. "I'm sorry for the location change, but I wanted to sample the goods before we renegotiate." And a bead of sweat escaped from his forehead and ran down his face.

"Has the product in the past not met with your standards?" He asked. Knowing full well that it had, or he would have heard complaints.

"On the contrary, but I do like to confirm the quality of the shipment before we move forward." Kurosaka responded.

"Of course, as is your prerogative." He replied. "Please, see for yourself." He opened a case stuffed full of colorful bills with pictures of Japanese elite on them. Although they looked real, they were, in fact, fake. Not Monopoly money fake, just not legally issued by the government fake. Making something from nothing and then spending that nothing on something was fun in itself. Yeah, call it an odd hobby, you could say that Asami enjoyed counterfeiting just for the sheer artistry, but that would be lying.

"Denomination?" Kurosaka asked, taking a pile out of the case and thumbing through it. "Nice work, your printer knows his stuff."

"One thousand yen and up." Asami replied. "Does it meet with your approval then?"

"Do you remember when we used to do things on a handshake deal?" Kurosaka asked.

"I prefer not to work that way, as it seems I have developed an aversion to germs." He replied.

Kurosaka smirked and threw a stack of bills to his subordinate with blue-grey hair, who caught it and thumbed through it. Funny colored hair subordinate nodded his approval.

"It will fit my needs." He said, putting the "money" back in the briefcase.

"Good, then we are in agreement." Asami said, and pulled out a folder. "The contract stipulates a regular wire-transfer agreement, as per our usual. There isn't anything changed from the previous agreement, except for the addition of line item #15, which indicates that should your party find fault with the quality, we will have sixty days to find and rectify the error."

"Sixty days?" Kurosaka asked? "Not thirty? I find that highly unusual."

"Sixty days is generous, given the nature of the product." He replied, giving that commanding voice he only used when necessary.

"I shall agree to that stipulation, however, should the product fail to fit my needs, I would see to a recall of all product not within current distribution within twenty-four hours of my notice."

"Of course. I will make the change, and have the documents forwarded for your approval." Asami bowed. "Then our business here is done."

"There is one last thing I need to discuss with you." Without warning, because no one says _I'm pulling a gun out of my jacket, _Kurosaka pulled out a gun from somewhere in his pocket, and cocked it quickly. His three men also did the same.

Just as quickly, his men echoed their movements. Only Asami remained unarmed, well he had arms; he just hadn't pulled his gun out yet.

Asami stilled and took a breath. Kurosaka wasn't in the habit of doing business this way, and the fear in his eyes showed this action was not motivated by money.

"This is highly unusual method of negotiation, Kurosaka-sama. Is there some reason why you've chosen this action as a way to conduct business?" Asami said in an even tone, as Kurosaka seemed very unstable and could fire if provoked.

"I'm sorry, but the syndicate has my family hostage. They can't seem to get to you, so…."

"That's a smooth explanation you've got there." Asami said.

"As a rule, I like plain speaking, and my father would kick me in the teeth if I stuttered."

"So, you've come into the cave to attack the lion where he sleeps? You do realize that you're on my turf." He said with malice.

"I do, but I have to do what I have to do." He responded. He was aiming straight at Asami's heart. He could shoot, and at this range he wouldn't miss, but what Kurosaka didn't know, was that Asami was wearing a bullet-proof vest. Or maybe he did, and was hoping for a hail mary.

"So do what you have to do." He said, and held out his hands to the side, in a gesture that made him look like Jesus on the cross. "If a pound of my flesh will make Oyabun happy, then take it. Shoot."

"Asami-sama." Suoh said in shock. "I don't…"

"It's difficult to shoot an unarmed man isn't it?" He said. He took a step forward towards the man, his arms still outstretched.

"Don't crowd me, Asami." He warned.

"This is bad…bad for business, you and I both know that." Asami said.

"My family….." Kurosaka began.

"What of them?" He asked indifferently.

"I have a wife and three children, they are…"

"Yes…yes…do you play chess?" Asami said, interrupting the man again.

"What of it?" Kurosaka asked.

"Then you know all about pawns. And you, and me, and your family are Oyabun's pawns, do you get it now?"

"So….."

"Even pawns can take down the king. It's difficult, but it can be done."

"Now you're just talking in riddles." He tortured his lower lip with his slightly yellow teeth.

"Then riddle me this, joker, if you shoot me, what makes you think my boys won't make meatloaf out of you and your men?" He asked. "What will Oyabun do with your family then?"

One of Kurosaka's men moved to the right, heading towards the other exit. The movement distracted Asami for just an instant, and Kurosaka took that opportunity to shoot but he missed, hitting the container next to Asami. Asami took another step closer.

"You're a bad shot, Kurosaka. You might as well drop your weapon." He said, but his eyes were on Kurosaka's men, their guns were trained on his head now.

"I won't miss next time." He replied.

Suddenly there was a click-click and then a boom as a shot rang out. From the sound, it wasn't a semi-auto. It was a rifle. "Hit the deck!" He yelled, because he had always wanted to say that and mean it literally.

Asami and his men took cover behind a container, barely dodging two shots from Kurosaka's men, which seemed to come at him in slow motion, like in a movie. One shot hit the briefcase sending money flying everywhere. It floated down like confetti at a birthday party. Asami pulled out his weapon.

Asami couldn't tell where the shot came from, as the sound echoed off the walls. But he could take a guess. Covered in blood, like a red cloth, Kurosaka's head looked as if it had been peeled back, showing the white of his skull cap underneath.

In the panic of the seconds that followed, Kurosaka's men were taken out swiftly and without comment by Asami's own bodyguards. Their shots still echoed in the hold like there was still firing going on. There was something anti-climactic, about the death of these three men. There were no souls flowing out of their bodies, there were no heated comments or words said. Still the metallic smell of blood always made Asami's bile rise in his throat. As much as his face remained stoic in the face of danger, the fact was, he hated to kill. He just didn't have any choice at least that is what he kept telling himself.

"Who fired that first shot?" He yelled, trying to get his ears functional again. He stayed where he was for the moment, not sure if the shooter would target them next. He looked for his men, and as expected, Suoh had located the shooter. He pointed to the ventilation shaft.

"Show yourself." He commanded as if he was asking a specter to materialize in front of him.

"Aw, hide and seek is no fun with you." A voice came from above them. With a sharp clang, a panel fell out of the shaft, and a black boot lowered before the owner of the boot jumped down onto a container with a thud. He looked like a ninja, all in black, except for his eye patch, which was black with red stripes.

"You're a little late for Halloween." Asami said, lining up his shot with the man's head. If he didn't flinch, he could take him out, but head shots required precision, and Asami wasn't sure he could make the shot if the man moved. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"I can't believe you don't remember your old pal Decoration?" He replied, and pointed to his eye patch. "Com'on, you wouldn't shoot a friend? Or would you?"

"You look better than the last time I saw you." Asami lowered his weapon, but didn't put it away. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He said. Decoration had indeed cleaned up well. He could pick out the scars that Akira had put on his face, yet he had no remorse. Remorse was for mortals, not demon crime lords or gods among men.

"It seems I owe you a favor." replied Decoration. His one eye glanced towards Akira suspiciously, as if he had expected Akira to bring his knapsack of death with him. Akira's statue-like expression didn't change under his fearful gaze. If Decoration wanted to, he could kill Akira right here, but there seemed to be no malice between the two. But of course, they weren't old pals either, given their traumatic history.

"Well, it seems you have paid back that favor, since you've taken out my business associate and his party. So I thank you."

"I'm not finished." He replied. "I'm far from finished."

Asami pulled out a toothpick and Decoration flinched. "Sorry." He said, and put it away. "You're not finished? So what's next, you kill me and collect my bounty? I understand Oyabun wants my salted head laid at his feet."

"It's not that." He said. "Because you let me go for whatever your reasons that night, I was able to see the birth of my son. I owe you, I suppose, a life debt?"

"Spare me the sentiment." He replied. "I thought you'd be collecting disability, seeing as how a one-eyed assassin is no use to anyone."

"You took out my bad eye, my eyesight actually improved." He said, chuckling slightly.

"I don't want a doctor's report, why did you kill Kurosaka?"

"Felt like it." He said, and he unloaded his weapon and threw his gun on a container. "But I'm not in the killing mood anymore."

"So me and my men walk out of here, minus a bullet to my head?" Asami got the feeling that Decoration was a little crazy. No, more like a lot crazy.

"Like I said, I'm not in the killing mood. However, I'm partial to theater. Do you like the theater, Asami?" He asked cunningly.

"I enjoy the works of Shakespeare." Asami said.

"Then you are familiar with Romeo and Juliet." Decoration asked.

"I am, intimately in fact," replied Asami. He somehow related to the tragedy for some reason, maybe because the story was violent, but at the same time, a love story. Or perhaps that the collection of words were so beautiful, that to hear them spoken aloud brought tears to his eyes. Yes, only Shakespeare could do that to him. Shakespeare's works may have lost their meaning as the centuries passed but could still make a reader in this century connect to two people who have died over and over with every retelling of the story. Sometimes, when he attended the play for the hundredth time, he'd have to fight the urge to shake Romeo and let him know that Juliet wasn't dead, just so he wouldn't feel that grief again. But Shakespeare's immortal tragedy wouldn't be a tragedy anymore; it would be a farce, a parody, and ultimately forgotten.

"Juliet faked her death, a sad ending, but then again, I enjoy tragedies." He jumped down from the container with the movement of a panther, his boots barely making a sound against the concrete floor.

He smirked at the irony. "I'm sure you do. So I play dead until my Romeo comes? How long will that be?"

He laughed. "Not long. Consider it a vacation. You can use one. You don't look well." He said in a teasing tone. "Oyabun is dying, he doesn't look well either. It will be announced tomorrow, but evidently, he's got cancer. He only has months to live. After he dies, your head will be worthless. His beef with you was personal."

"Because I wouldn't marry his daughter."

"I've seen his daughter and I don't blame you. Woof woof." He said, and smirked. He crossed over to the still bodies of Kurosaka and his men. "I've rigged this ship to clean-up all this unsightly mess." He kicked Kurosaka's still leg with his boot. "Indeed a mess."

"That it is. You don't do things half-way it seems" He replied, although his eyes didn't look at the mangle of corpses lying haphazardly among the confetti of counterfeit bills, his eyes were on Decoration. "I would have you work for me, if you're so inclined."

"I'm not looking for employment."

"Why shouldn't I just walk out of here then, since you aren't going to kill me?"

"Because the next guy won't be so nice." He said. "And yes, you're right, Oyabun's men want to present him your salted head as a sort of going away present. You know, all wrapped up in a bloody sheet with your tie for a bow.

"Graphic."

"Word of warning, they will get what they want, eventually." He cocked his head. "Either way, this ship and its contents will make a nice firework display." He said, smiling broadly, his eyes sparkling. Decoration moonlighted as a pyromaniac.

"So you're telling me that Oyabun wants me to go to blazes."

He smile died. "That he does. This fire will be hot, hot enough to turn everything to ash." He kicked a container, "including these babies, and their dubious contents."

"What's inside isn't worth the paper its printed on."

"Fu fu. You're wit is showing."

Asami chuckled. "How do we make this play look convincing?"

"Exit through the port side hold. There's a ladder to get to the water. Swim as fast as you can, get to your boat, the one at dock 24 and then…..go fishing. Don't come back for a while."

"I can't just walk away, can I, for some reason?" He asked he wasn't in the mood to go swimming in the winter. Something about getting cold bothered him.

"There are cameras on the starboard side belonging to the port authority. I can't take those out without rousing suspicion." He replied. "You will be seen leaving the area alive."

"How much time do I have?" He asked, and started stripping. His tie, his jacket, and his bullet proof vest all ended up in a pile on the floor. He needed to rid himself of dead weight.

"Fifteen minutes. You need to be way clear when this thing blows." He explained.

"This far exceeds the favor I paid to you." Asami said.

"Well, this may not work." He said.

"Someday I'll pay it back, with interest." He replied. He was planning on putting that kid of his through college, if this entire _price on his head _shit goes away. He could be a nice guy, when he wanted to be.

"I won't hold you to that. You may not make it, as the water's temp is about 10°C, give or take. So, it's going to kick your teeth in."

"I will still see that debt repaid. I still hold to the old ways." He dropped his gun to the side. He wouldn't need it. "By the way, I never learned your real name?"

"Rumpelstiltskin." He replied, and chuckled. "See you on the other side, Asami."

He chuckled and gave a little finger wave as he watched Decoration go do whatever he was going to do before he turned to his men. The look on their shocked faces….he wished he had a camera.

"Are you really going…to." Suoh started to say.

He held up a hand. He was crazy, to do this, to trust this guy, but it was only a little swim, right? If it didn't work, he'd be in the same situation as he was before. "Meet me at the boat. Get it ready. The water is freezing. There is a possibility however slight, of hypothermia setting in. This play may get ugly. Tell Kirishima not to blow a gasket." And then he bolted from the hold towards the port side as his men ran the other way towards the exit, frowning as they went. He could tell they didn't like this, but they had orders to follow.

He found the water access quickly, and rather than taking the flimsy ladder down he took a breath and dove in. The cold water stung as it touched his skin, burning like fire. He started to hyperventilate immediately. But he swam as quickly as he could, trying to keep an eye on the distant numbers on the docks. Fifteen minutes, he had fifteen minutes. No less, now.

He felt like he was kicking hard, but not making headway. The water smelled of oil and diesel fuel. The cold was making his head hurt, but the fast movement of his muscles made him generate more heat, which encouraged him. He could see Dock 24 in the distance. It looked so far away. How much time did he have left?

"Dammit." He said, his lips were chattering, which wasn't a good sign, but his pants were dragging him back. He tried to take them off, but his numb fingers couldn't grip his belt, so he gave up. How much time?

He thought he was in good shape, but he just never liked the cold, even when he was young. He hated to play in the snow, preferring to watch from inside the house while the neighbor kids threw snowballs at each other. When it warmed up, he would stay outside for hours, warming his body in the sun. It was funny. He didn't know how much he missed the sun until just today.  
How much time did he have?

Dock 23…almost there. He could see his boat _The Top Knot _and his men running down the dock quickly, but his breath was becoming uneven and his vision blurred. Swim_ harder _he told his muscles as he kicked towards the dock. He felt arms around him and like Hercules, Suoh dragged him out of the water and on to the deck. Suoh was going to be sore tomorrow.

"His lips are blue. Let's get him on board and get out of here, we only have minutes to spare." Kirishima said, with panic in his voice, a rarity. Asami must look like shit, since he certainly felt like shit, whatever shit felt like.

Akira started the engine. Asami's breathing came out in shallow gasps. He was by far a weak man but it seemed to have been done in by the cold. He was exhausted to begin with and that midnight swim put him at death's door. Knock knock.

"Get him warm. I'm casting off." Akira replied, and put the engine in gear and with a dull roar maneuvered out of the dock. Seconds later…..

_Click, click….boom._

An orange glow lit up the sky brightening it like a sunrise on a pretty day. A shock wave hit the boat creating a ripple effect that rocked it violently. They held on, as they watched the ship explode in flames. They could actually feel the heat and smell the burning mixture of gas and wiring as it burned. Flaming parts flew into the air, and came down again, almost in slow motion, hitting the water and flickering out with a soft _pssh_ sound.

"Whose bright idea was this again?" Asami said, through chattering teeth. His lips were returning to a more normal shade, but he was still shivering.

"I thought I was going to have to strip and give my body heat to you." Kirishima teased.

"Umm….no thanks, I'm just going to crawl into a warm bottle of scotch." He said, and stumbled below to dry off. "I think I'm taking a vacation."

"Yes you will be taking one. If you don't, I will quit, Asami-sama." Kirishima said, helping his boss below. "You know I will."

"Yes, mother-hen." He said, as he pulled off his dripping pants and grabbed a towel. "Geez.….of all things, laid out by cold." He was still shivering as he sat down and wrapped himself in a blanket. "I hate cold."

"It just shows you're human, Asami-sama. Sometimes I wonder if you are."

"Don't spread that around. I don't want word to get out." He said, and pulled the stopper on the bottle of scotch out with his teeth and spit it across the galley. He took a large swig of the amber colored liquid directly from the bottle. "I'm feeling warmer already."

Kirishima relaxed. "What happened on the ship?"

"It's a story for another time, Kirishima, another time." He said, and took another swig of scotch and wiped his now pinker lips with the back of his hand.

"Am I looking at a dead man?" Kirishima asked, as he rubbed Asami's back with a towel, watching it pink up under the friction. He'd taken a sudden liking to the color pink.

"Guess you have a funeral to plan, huh?" He said, jokingly, although Kirishima was frowning. "I want someone to dress up as a Shinigami and just stand there and say nothing and look menacing. I'd love to see people's reaction to that."

"I'd laugh at that, but right now, I'm worried you're going to catch a cold." He said worriedly.

"I'm worried that our whole play in one act will blow up in our faces, pun intended." He laid down as Kirishima piled about thirty blankets on him. Well, not really, but it was a lot of blankets. He was already sweating. If the cold didn't kill him, getting overheated probably would. "Stop frowning, you're going to get wrinkles."

"Huh. Tonight's antics already gave me gray hair." He said. "I think you're warm enough now." He grabbed the bottle from Asami. "Get some sleep. You'll still be dead in the morning, I'm sure."

"I look forward to it." He said, and chuckled as he closed his eyes. "I look forward to it." He said again.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Why are we meeting here, Akihito?" A confused (as usual) Kou asked Akihito as soon as he slid into a booth. The booth's red seats were ripped in places, and anywhere he put his butt, he could feel the hardness of the wood underneath. Something was wrong with Akihito to pick a dive like this. He preferred upbeat bars with video games, good food and beer, not seedy bars that smelled of liquor, body odor, and the stale misery that comes from poor choices, bitter regrets and lost dreams. Geez, and he was so happy just a few minutes ago. Did a dark cloud of misery descend from above?

Smoke rose above the few patrons sitting at the bar, their blank faces and coal black eyes staring at nothing in particular. They sipped their drinks slowly, trying to savor them or just killing time. Drinking, and trying to forget whatever mistakes they had made in life, or just trying to forget that somewhere, at some point in their lives, someone had loved them, once. Or maybe they just hung around because there was always a good sumo match on.

A man decided to liven up the mood with a song on the juke-box. But instead of livening up the mood, it only made the patrons more confused as the song choice was _Un Bel di Vedremo_ from _Madama Butterfly_. Opera on a jukebox? Why not? It was a song Kou was familiar with, as _Madama Butterfly_ was the only opera his mother had taken him to, when he was old enough to attend theater without getting his knees slapped for wriggling. After that, his parents divorced and he made the decision to stay behind in Tokyo to finish school, rather than going to live with either one of them. So now, the song always reminded him of the day his mother drove away in a cab and left him standing at the curb waving goodbye, waiting for her to turn around and wave back. But she never did. A month later, she'd been hit by a car and killed. The view of her gorgeous long black hair floating in the breeze was burned into his memory. So, even though this was one of the most hauntingly beautiful arias ever written, he couldn't stomach listening to it. But he kind of didn't have any choice. Man, he had been so happy just a few minutes ago.

So now, with those dark memories in his mind, he fought the sudden urge to run, because if he stayed any longer the mood of the place would make him want to slit his wrists. And he had been so happy….

"Akihito?" He asked, after Akihito hadn't acknowledged him nor answered his first question. His friend's back plastered against the rear of the booth, his face hidden in the shadows as if the dim light would turn his body to ash.

They hadn't planned to meet today at all. Today was Sunday. Akihito was supposed to be at his mom's place eating his weight in porridge. But instead, he had received an early morning phone call, seeing as how 11:30 a.m. on a Sunday was considered early morning for him, and had been begged, no more like been commanded to meet Akihito at this seedy run-down bar in the Kabukicho district. Only here they would find a bar open this early.

And on the phone Akihito had said very little except….."Meet me at Kenzo's, right away." And it haunted him, the sound of his tortured voice, as if Akihito had been up all night singing karaoke and was now in the mood for post party pancakes and coffee and not….gin and tonics at noon or just gin, hold the tonic.

"Akihito?" He said again, and not expecting an answer, touched his friend's tightly clutched fist that was trembling ever so slightly. "Where's Takato?"

Akihito just shrugged. "Work, I think." Akihito's head slumped slightly as if he'd been hit in the back of the head and he flipped the crumpled newspaper he'd been clutching to his chest towards Kou without comment and sat back.

"What's this?" He asked, wondering why Akihito held one empty glass as he was nursed a second almost empty glass. Akihito already looked a little pink-cheeked, and not from his usual façade of embarrassment. He had started without him, not only started without him he looked like he was headed to the finish line. The cheeky little bastard.

"Read the article, the headline." He said pointblank and downed the drink and wiggled the glass towards the waitress, who looked about eighty-five judging by lines on her face but was probably closer to thirty-five upon closer inspection. She still had a dancer's body, what kind of dancer she once was, Kou didn't want to know.

"_Five Killed, Explosion at Docks_…what of it?" He asked confusedly because the headline looked like a five year old had written it.

"That bastard went and died on me!" He said, and now Kou realized why his face was so dark, he'd been crying and was trying to hide it in the shadows, since bars aren't known for their bright lighting, especially seedy bars. "If you continue reading, his staff confirmed it. He's dead! I can't believe his men let him get killed!"

"Akihito…."

"I don't believe everything I read, especially…." And a single tear escaped the confines of his right eye. "That bastard! I get up the nerve to go slap that smug smirk off his face, and he goes and dies! Blown up. BOOM!" And he mimicked an explosion with his hands.

"Akihito…you're not making sense!" Kou said, skimming the article quickly and looking at the grainy photo of police picking up little pieces of wreckage out of the murky junk filled water. "There was no body found?"

"It has to be a lie. He was supposed to live like a billion years and then die while having sex. He said that was the way he wanted to go out…." He laughed maniacally. "Egomaniac!"

"So why are we here?" He wondered, and his backhanded comment brought a few stares from the patrons who probably thought this place was as good as any to rest their weary bones. They were kind of loyal that way to their seedy bar, even if they had to pick slivers out of their butts at the end of the day.

"Because I want to forget that bastard ever existed! I want to take an ice pick and pick out those memories out of my head! But drinking is the best thing I can do. My brain surgeon fucked up. He should have left the memories of Keir and Topkay instead, I get these...these…memories and feelings and crap. He fucked up!"

Everyone went back to their well-nursed drinks, ignoring their fellow patron's tirade. They had seen and heard it before, the anger that wells up from grief and as usual, they wouldn't lend an ear to help comfort the fallen in their hour of need. They had their own problems, problems that were probably created by the drink in their hands.

"Akihito, I don't think you're feeling well, do you need some help?" He asked, trying to remember when his mom died. What had people done? What had they said? He couldn't remember. He kind of had a bad memory given the fact he was dropped on his head as a baby.

"Pity, party of one…your table is ready." He choked back a laugh tinged with a sob. "I don't need your pity. I need a drinking buddy." Akihito looked as if he wanted to die. As if he was close to the edge of hell's pit and it would only take a gently push and there he would go, over the side. "I'm afraid I'll die if I drink alone." And he probably would, as Akihito was a light weight, both literally and figuratively.

"Have you seen your psychologist lately?" He asked gently, and called young/old lady waitress over. Might as well join Akihito in the pity party, since Akihito didn't seem to want to leave and take this gathering elsewhere. It was the middle of winter, and young/old waitress had tan lines. Now he figured how why she looked like an old wrinkled woman. And why did he keep smelling burnt toast every time she walked by?

"You think I can talk about my personal life with that guy?" He took the offered drink from young/old lady.

"That's what a psychologist is for, you idiot!"

"You're right, I'm an idiot! I don't know how to deal with this. I've never been in love before. Just tell me how I'm supposed to feel! I don't know how to deal with this shit. He was my first love…my first! How am I supposed to feel?"

"Loss, Akihito. You're going to feel loss." He said, gently. "Even if he dumped you, you're going to feel loss!"

"I don't….I don't want to feel that! Shit!" Actually all he wanted to feel was wasted and he was well on his way. He downed his drink quickly and nodded at the waitress who was so good at her job she already had another drink in her hand. "I'm crying harder over this than I did when I lost my leg!"

"You're right, Akihito, I don't know what to say to make you feel better. But I'm your friend. Your friend! I will always be your friend, no matter what! Akihito! I have ears, and I can listen. So talk all you want!"

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Mourn, drink, pray for the dead, light incense, and then move on. Not necessarily in that order."

He shrugged. "Then I'm going to move on. And then, I go to Brazil…..and….throw myself into my work I guess. I suppose that's what adults do, don't they?"

"Drink and work to forget how they feel? Yeah, that sounds about right." She signaled the waitress, who hovered close by like a circling vulture. "Waitress, bring us the bottle, please."

And when she spoke, she spoke volumes. "Young man, there is no magic at the bottom of a bottle."

"I'll pay extra, if you'll put some fairy dust in there." Kou said, and the waitress laughed a deep throaty laugh.

"This whole thing blows monkey chunks." Akihito said.

Kou couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, it kinda does."

~BVF~

Asami blew into his hands to warm them, as he piloted his boat into a shallow cove to lay low for the night. He dimmed his running lights, killed the engine, and anchored quickly. It had been a week since the incident and so far, he was still dead. He left Akira, Suoh and Kirishima to mind the store and now, he was enjoying a much needed vacation. Life, as a dead man, wasn't half bad. Today, he fished. And tomorrow on the schedule was..fishing. What was that saying? A bad day fishing was better than a good day working?

It was so quiet here. It was dark and silent as a grave and he was the resident ghost, a cold ghost, if ghosts could get cold. Or were they always cold? Well, anyway, it was cold tonight and he was out of coffee and booze already, so he had to settle for blankets and his jacket to keep him warm.

How he wished he had a third option, as in a warm body, preferably Akihito's warm body and Akihito's firm round ass. _Arrgh_, he said aloud, sounding like a pirate. No one's body excited him like Akihito's had. And when this whole shit was over, he was going to claim what was his. Even if Akihito was with someone else, he was going to ride in, on his white horse, or actually his gray BMW and take him back. Did he regret sending him away? Well, he certainly wasn't going to ask himself that question, as that would require having to think about….feelings. Ewwww.

But the thought of throwing Akihito into the back of his car and driving away filled him with lust so quickly, that he didn't realize he was hard until his pants got a little tight. The things he wanted to do in the backseat, well, they would steam up the glass so fast, that they'd have to roll down the windows to see out. The partition separating the front and back seat would be of no use, because loud Akihito's cries of _harder and faster_ would carry through the car, making his stoic duo in the front seat blush a bright ruby red. Then, as he tortured the poor boy to the brink, he'd clamp his fingers around his cock and prevent him from releasing. And then…..

A light splash startled him out of his fantasy, and he turned on his port side light to find two black eyes staring at him. He had anchored amongst a seal colony.

"Well, little seal. Do you want to watch me take care of this problem?" He asked, and chuckled, because this seriously was sort of lewd, not that he cared. He turned the light back off and turned his attention to his now rock-hard cock. Maybe having an audience made him hornier. He didn't know. He changed his mind, though, after he braced against the cold night air and felt his nuts shrink to the size of peas. A change of venue was in order, so he zipped his pants back up and went down below.

Somehow his fantasy of riding in on a white horse, however clichéd, fueled his desire even more as he stroked his member softly. Suddenly, Asami fantasized about taking Akihito right here, on his boat…playing pirate captain and kidnapped virgin. Oh, how twisted was his mind tonight? Asami's hand was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers so quickly, that he almost didn't think about it before he did it.

A warmth he hadn't felt in a while spread down into his legs as he thought about Akihito's so tight ass around his cock, begging him to do it harder, faster, and clutching at his hips to help Asami guide his thrusts onto that spot that drove Akihito wild.

His breath quickened almost inaudibly as he stroked himself, tightening his fist around his member as he pumped himself slowly, then faster. It had been so hot inside Akihito when he fucked him it was if he had a fever. He twisted his fist in a circle and it felt so good when he reached climax and he came almost imperceptibly, barely making a sound except a whispered _Akihito_. He caught his breath and opened his eyes again. He was hoping, wishing, wanting two hazel eyes to be looking back at him with desire, with lust, with such longing that he wouldn't want to look away. But his eyes were only met with the view from his cushioned throne. He cleaned himself up and fixed his clothes as if nothing had occurred and he went back up to check the lines for the tenth time again.

Tomorrow on the agenda…ask Kirishima to bring him some porn.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

It was raining, a cold hard rain. Everyone once in a while, a pale round chunk of ice, otherwise known as hail, would fall from the heavens and crash to the ground. The weatherman had called for rain, not golf ball sized hail. Stupid weatherman. Akihito was convinced stupid weatherman had arranged it so it would rain today because….it was always supposed to rain on the day you paid your respects to the dearly departed. That was the rule you know. At least, for Akihito it was. It was raining on the day Keir was taken off life support. It was raining on the day his grandma's dog died. He had liked that dog. So, of course, of all days, it was raining today.

And when it rained, hard like this he couldn't wear cool leg, he'd have to wear the other non-cool leg, which meant he limped and had to carry a cane. It was a cool cane though. It was a gift from Natgeo, since it was their fault, sort of, that he got all mangled up in Afghanistan. Anyway, it had a clock in the bamboo handle because his co-workers said he was always losing track of the time. Ha ha. Very funny….even if it was true.

So, as Akihito dodged the tempest, well, not really dodged, but tried his best to keep dry, he cursed for having to go out today at all. Why shouldn't he be home, playing with his cameras, drinking cocoa and watching _The Mentalist_? But no….today he was supposed to be seeking closure, or whatever he was supposed to do. This whole thing sucked donkey balls.

Today was the day he would say goodbye to Asami, even if he didn't want to.

The cab stopped in front of cold, dark and pretentious Club Sion, which in the cold dark rain, looked even more ominous, as if it were a character in a horror film. If it was, he should be hearing the screeching of violins, but all he could hear was the pattering of raindrops on the cold gray concrete, the distant murmuring of thunder. Even the flower arrangements and red lanterns at the entrance did nothing to liven up the place. Because…it was cold and dark or dark and cold, take your pick.

So he limped towards the entrance, realizing that this was the last time he would come here, unless he got lost or something. And he was determined this would be the last time he would cry for Asami. After today, he would cry no more. He didn't know how he would keep himself from crying. Maybe they had anti-crying drops to go with his anti-blushing serum or maybe just through sheer will, he didn't know.

He limped up the steps carefully, avoiding the gaze of the big goon at the door who, from what he could remember, was the same big goon who had thrown him down the steps so many months ago. Guess big goon didn't have any ambition other than being a big goon.

Big goon didn't meet his eyes, but looked at his leg, and his eyes softened. He usually got that look, no matter how cold-hearted a person was, that look of pity. How he hated it.

"Inside?" He asked simply, when he finally made it to the door. Asami never installed disabled friendly accommodations so it took him awhile to climb the steps. He'd have to have words with Kirishima about that. Yeah, who cares. After today, he wasn't going to see the place again.

"Yes, in the main hall. Please watch your step, the floor is slippery." Big goon said. "Umm…from the rain." No duh, big goon.

"Thank you." And what big goon meant was, _don't fall down on your ass because I don't want to get in trouble with the boss. _"I'll be careful." He said, rather than argue with big goon that he wasn't as feeble as he looked. He probably wouldn't win anyway, given the guy looked like a truck.

Club Sion looked so different. Not just prepared for a funeral different, but different…different. The place looked like it was in the middle of a remodel (it was) and they hadn't decided on a theme yet (they hadn't). There were neither tables, chairs, booths, nor any decoration at all. As he walked…limped, his cane's _click click _noise echoed off the bare white walls. Club Sion was as silent as a grave, a fitting epitaph to the man Akihito once knew. Had once loved.

Club Sion…..where are your flashes of merriment?

"Suoh." Akihito said when he came into the main hall. There stood Suoh, alert as usual, and guarding his late boss's altar, as if someone might shoot it. If someone took a shot at it, would Suoh jump in front of it with a dramatic _NOOOOOOO_? "It's nice to see you again."

"It's good to see you too." Suoh said, and he meant it.

"I wish it wasn't like this though." Akihito said, and he meant it.

Suoh's eye's softened, a little, but not much, only Akihito was able to tell. "Yes, I agree." He said, and his body stilled, as if he was modeling for a statue. "Take your time." He said with finality.

Akihito collapsed in front of the altar. Not collapsed, but there was no getting down on his knees easily, so it looked awkward. This position hurt. Suoh moved just slightly as if to help him, but seeing Akihito's death glare, he went back to his original position, that is, of the stoic watchdog.

It was a simple shrine, for a complicated man. There was no picture, just a black and white sketch, most likely done hastily and from memory. It wasn't a bad drawing, it was just flat. Even at the end Asami shunned photos, as if someone could steal his soul if someone snapped a quick picture.

He bowed, clapped his hands together and lit a stick of incense. There was a collection of odd offerings on the altar: toothpicks, coins, scotch, a Starbucks Frappuccino cup, a DVD of _The Mentalist_. To this rather odd memorial, he added the camera. He didn't want it anymore, didn't need it anymore, and didn't want to be reminded of Asami when he ran across it in a storage box, years later. He had wanted, at first, to take a hammer to it, but he couldn't go through with it. It wasn't the cameras fault.

"Where are the cigarettes?" He asked Suoh, who seemed startled out of his unmoving position by the question.

"The boss had developed a health issue, and was urged to quit smoking." He answered with a semi-polite smile, which actually made him look more menacing.

"And did he?" He asked. Where had he been? Oh, yeah, that's right, in a coma.

"Of course he did." He replied, amazed the question even had to be asked.

"A lot of good it did him." Akihito said with a slight chuckle. "I don't understand, Suoh."

"I'm sorry, Takaba-kun?" He asked.

"Why are you alive and he's dead?" Akihito replied. Something didn't add up, and had been bugging him since the day he read the article in the paper. "Not that I wish you dead but…."

"Mistakes were made." He said simply, his face darkening for a moment. "I'm sorry I didn't do my best that day." He hated lying to the boy, but it wasn't his job to reveal the truth. Truth was for wimps with no right hook.

The tears started flowing again. Akihito had held them back….he checked the watch on the top of his cane….for a whole eight hours, not counting the hours he drank himself into a stupor. Maybe this was progress.

"You're sorry?" He said, and his voice rose a little. "You're sorry….huh."

"I would gladly switch places with him." Yeah, he would gladly, he could go fishing, and Asami could deal with crying brat.

"Then go switch." He ordered. "Sorry that was mean. I'm not in the best of moods, given the circumstances."

"I understand."

"I'm mad at you, you know….I'm mad at Kirishima and Akira! What kind of bodyguards are you? You let him get shot by Feilong! You let him run after me in Hong Kong, even though he wasn't healed yet! You let him die on that ship! What good are you? You guys suck!"

"Do you feel better now?" A voice said evenly from the doorway. Akihito hadn't noticed Kirishima's soft _thud _of his expensive shoes approaching due to his tirade.

"No, I don't." He said coldly. "Kirishima, you asshole! How come you got away and he didn't?" He struggled to get up but failed. His tears dripped down his face onto the gray stone floor, making a nice puddle for the janitor to clean up later.

"Like Suoh said, mistakes were made." He said apologetically. He really hated it when the boy cried. Even he, a straight guy, could admit that.

"No. I don't believe it." He replied and put his face in his hands to hide the tears from these two men.

"Pardon?"

"It's a conspiracy. He's not dead. You're hiding him, aren't you? He can't be dead. You guys wouldn't let him be dead. I'm going to go out and prove he isn't dead. You wouldn't leave him behind!" He yelled and his voice echoed before dying completely. "He's hanging with Bruce Lee and Elvis, right? He can't be dead!"

"Come with me." Kirishima said, and went to help him up but Akihito slapped his hand away. "You need a drink." This tirade of Takaba was going to make trouble, and he was done with trouble. But when Takaba the trouble magnet was around he couldn't avoid it.

"None for me thanks, I'm driving." He said mockingly.

"Then, let's take a walk." He said, and held out his hand again. This time, Akihito took it. His butt was getting cold and his good leg was falling asleep. So, might as well go take a walk with an evil crime lord….evil crime lord's evil assistant. There was no harm in that, right? Right?

"Where are we going? For a little ride?" He said, with sarcasm dripping from his mouth like venom.

"I have a little errand to run." He said, as he escorted Akihito down the hall, and to the back entrance. Why he felt like Leia being escorted by Darth Vader into her prison cell, he didn't know. Not that he was a girl or anything.

"What, I'm supposed to go with you so you can park in the handicapped spot?" Akihito said. "People frown on using cripples like that you know."

Kirishima grunted like a caveman but didn't comment as he pushed him…ok, not pushed, that wouldn't be cool, but helped Akihito into the back of the waiting limo.

"Then, where are we going?" He asked, as Kirishima climbed in next to him. Kirishima was all legs. And when he climbed in, he looked like a spider. Was he the spider's prey? Was he going to get chewed up and spit out because he couldn't keep his big trap shut?

"To seek a solution to your problem." He said, in a voice as empty as his stoic expression.

"Are we off to see the wizard? Will he get me a new heart? Because I don't want the one I've got anymore." He said, wiping the tears from his face. "You can have it."

"Here, have a drink." He said, and nodded to Akira to drive.

"I said…." And when Akira took off, he fell back against the seat. "Ouch."

"Here…just one." He offered again.

"You know peer pressure is a form of bullying." He replied. "But as a tough mob boss…and you are the boss now…right? You should be familiar with bullying."

"Then don't drink it." He sighed and put the drink away.

"Why do I feel the sudden urge to bolt from this car, and if I was wearing my other leg, I would." He said waringly.

"Are you a Transformer now?" He asked, with a goofy grin making it look like his face would crack at any minute.

Akihito cocked his head. "Yeah, if I was a robot, my heart wouldn't be breaking like this." He swallowed hard.

"You're sad?" He said, stating the obvious. He then pushed his glasses back with his finger.

"No shit, Sherlock." He replied, sticking out his tongue. "Aren't you?"

No, he wasn't sad, because Asami wasn't dead. "Does that mean…you love him?" He asked, avoiding the other question all together.

"Loved." He corrected dully.

"Yes…"

"I did…and I do, so there. Put that it your pipe and smoke it." He said disrespectfully.

"Even after he dumped you?" Kirishima asked.

"Yeah, stupid me. Something's wrong with my brain…in case you forgot." He remarked fiercely. "I'm still pining for a man who had his underling break up with him."

"I was following orders. I'm sorry about that." He said apologetically and coughed.

"Apology not accepted." He said in a whimsical voice.

"You two are idiots." He said, and regretted his words immediately.

"I'm an idiot and he's dead." He reminded him.

"Well…" He said, and scratched the back of his neck.

"I knew it!" He said, and beamed. "I just knew it."

"And here I thought that blond hair was natural."

"You're really bad at keeping secrets. I mean, I didn't even have to torture you or anything." Akira chuckled from the front seat at that. "Where are we going, then?"

"He wants to see you." Actually that was a lie. He didn't know why he was talking Akihito to see him, but he just hated this whole situation. Besides, why bring Asami porn when can have the real deal?

"Ooohh no." He said, and tried the door handle even though they were on the expressway. "Doesn't he have Sudoh to fuck? Why would he want me?"

"Sudoh was not his type." He said. "You don't want to see him?"

"Stop the car, no way. Stop the car." He said, in a panicked voice, although they were on the expressway and the logic of that didn't seem to matter right then.

"Keep driving." Kirishima ordered. Although Akira hadn't even slowed down.

"Are you kidnapping me now?" He asked. "That's against the law, you know.

"No, I'm not." He replied quickly.

"I won't tell anyone your little secret. Unlike you, I can keep secrets." He was begging now.

"I would think you want to see him, to confirm he's alive." Akihito shrugged. "And I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

"Well, I trust your word, although I shouldn't. Here look there's an exit." He said, and frowned when Akira made no move to take the exit. "You missed it."

"Keep driving Akira." He ordered again.

"I have to go to a therapy appointment. My mom's waiting for me. I have to go to the bathroom. My leg hurts." He looked at Kirishima and cringed. "No?"

"I'm not going to hurt you." He promised again.

"Yeah but HE might." Akihito said. His ass already hurt thinking about the perverting things Asami might do to him. And then, there was that whole leg thing. How were they supposed to….ya know..when he wasn't a whole man anymore? Besides, what made him think Asami wanted him that way anymore? Not just the leg alone, but his body had a lot of scars, and they looked rather nasty.

"Asami won't hurt you, why would he? That doesn't make sense." He said in a confusing tone.

"Hasn't stopped him before." Akihito replied, and shrugged his shoulders. "In case you forgot that first…little incident."

He cringed. "Actually he might hurt me, seeing as how…I let the cat out of the bag." He replied.

"You don't mind getting into trouble with him?"

"I don't mind a reasonable amount of trouble."

He narrowed his eyes. "This is too much trouble, even for you...so let me out and we'll call it even." He responded, looking hopeful. "Just pretend you didn't see me….I'm a ghost…and I'm gone…..poof."

"You should be honest. You said you love him…and..he….uh….."

"Yeah…uh…there's your answer." He responded and shrugged. "Do you really believe in love between men?"

"Yes, I do." The way Asami flew into a rage when Akihito was kidnapped, the way he threw his cell phone against the wall when his boy lay in a coma in a hospital in Afghanistan, Asami loved the boy, he just had a funny way of showing it. "You think three little words would make a difference?"

"Three little words? Three words can have a lot of impact. _Let It Be. It's a boy. Are you ok? Do your best._" He replied, sounding far older than his chronological age. "Or my dad's favorite: _visualize whirled peas_…..you know…along those lines."

It stunned Kirishima for a moment. "He sent you away to grow up a little, and I think you have."

"Yeah, I had a birthday. Asshole." He said rudely.

"I take it back." He said sharply.

"Are you going to kill me? Because I will haunt you the rest of your life if you do." He said and waved his hands around. "I'm a scary scary ghost."

Kirishima choked back a laugh. "I said before, I'm not going to kill you….just look at me." Akihito obeyed with seriousness on his face. "You don't trust me?"

"I've got nothing against trusting, but in the past, I've been burned by it." He sat back against the seat, looking calm and rather amused. "So..now…I'm a little more cautious, that's all."

"Yes, you have grown up." He said.

"Which is why I wouldn't take that drink you've been trying to shove down my throat. I have a low tolerance for roofie-laced cocktails." He sneered.

"I can assure you, the drink was more to calm you down. I have an aversion to tears."

"Hmm." Akihito clasped his hands behind his head. "Well, I have an aversion to being kidnapped. But seeing as I'm stuck here…"

"Yes?"

"I might as well take a nap."

"Now?"

"Unless you want to have this conversation all over again." He said crossly.

"Not really, once was enough."

"Then wake me when we get wherever we are going. I don't keep gangster's hours anymore. I'm beat."

He laughed again. "Does this mean you trust me?"

Akihito opened one eye and raised his eyebrow. "If you planned to strong-arm me, you would have done it already. So I think I'm safe, for now." He closed the eye again and settled back. His breathing immediately became deep and even.

Kirishima smirked and sat back himself, watching the dark clouds move on to rain on someone else's parade. Asami's boy had become a man.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The car pulled onto a dirt road, its tires crunching the gravel underneath as Kirishima busied himself with paperwork, because everyone knows that without paperwork, there would be no civilization, and without civilization, there would be no paperwork. But what the hell did he know? He majored in economics with a minor in ass kissing.

Akihito slept on, oblivious or maybe dead to the world, obliviously dead? Well, for sure he was out like a light. Kirishima's laptop cast blue shadows on Akihito's face, which scrunched up for a moment and then relaxed again. He hoped the boy was having a good dream, a dream about swimming in Pocky filled pools overflowing with chocolate goodness. When Kirishima slept, which wasn't often, he dreamt of floating colored numbers flying at his head and death. Always he dreamed of death because he was kind of morbid like that. It was the number one reason he slept with the lights on.

In the old days, which wasn't that long ago chronologically but seemed a lifetime ago to Kirishima, Akihito wouldn't have gotten into the car, at least not voluntarily, at least not as easily as he did tonight. Akihito didn't show it, but it must have hurt his pride to be unable to kick him in the shin and escape into the night, only to be cornered again. And the wild-goose chase went on like that, in the old days. How he missed that merry chase.

He left a sleeping Akihito, and joined Akira to wait at this deserted inlet, a long drive from Tokyo, yet not long enough to get all his paperwork done (boo). At one time, it had been a busy area, but the fishing industry hit a rough patch, so now it was abandoned. Too bad, so sad. If it was abandoned, then Asami wanted it, seeing has how Asami liked that shabby chic look.

This new hide-out, complete with ocean view and a private (although crumbling) dock, was obtained on the cheap…actually free. So as long as no one came snooping, like the local donut patrol, Asami could fulfill his fantasy (one of many) of living off the land, or sea, in this instance. Only the land didn't provide coffee, toothpicks and booze, so he had to rely on Kirishima for those provisions. So here he was, with his cache of goodies, which included the brat, AKA Takaba the trouble magnet, as a sort of icing on the cake, not that Asami liked sweets. Sweets were for girls, not manly men who star in their own shaving cream commercials.

It was so quiet here. Kirishima didn't know that silence could be so deafening. He could actually hear himself breathing, could hear the car engine pop as it cooled down from the drive, could hear Asami's soft boat shoes and the clang of his lantern as he walked up to him and stopped. Because if he didn't stop, he'd just keep going.

"What news?" Asami said and rubbed the coarse black hairs on his chin. A little more than two weeks days since the _kaboom-pow_ incident, and Asami was already sporting a impressive beard. Maybe Asami willed the tiny hairs to grow faster, or maybe he just oozed testosterone. Anyway, the beard made good insulation from the cold winter, but also made him look like a salty old seaman, a commander of the sea, like he commanded everything else in his life.

"You're still dead." He smirked. That joke never got old, no matter how many times he's said it. "And Oyabun is still alive." He added.

"I see." He replied in all seriousness. "What did you bring me?"

"Booze, toothpicks, coffee, rice, the usual…the makings of a fine feast, I would think Sparrow." He said using the codename they had come up with, seeing as how Asami thought himself a pirate now, even though he wasn't. He'd raped, pillaged and plundered on land but hadn't gotten around to it by sea, yet. He only needed an eye patch (maybe Decoration can lend him one of his) and a parrot and _then_ he could really play pirate.

"That's Captain Sparrow." He replied and laughed at his own wit (because no one else would). "What else? Not any paperwork, I hope."

"No, I'm not that cold-hearted." He said. Actually, maybe he and were more cold-blooded, like a snake, which would explain why neither of them liked the cold. "I brought you a quad venti two-pump white mocha skinny latte, no foam, no whip. Sorry it's not hot anymore."

"Seriously? Four shots? I'm going to be up all night."

"You might be, after you see what's in the car." In the soft yellow glow of the lantern, Kirishima could see Asami's eyes widen. "I brought a little trouble, perhaps."

"How little is this trouble?" He took a sip of his seriously evil coffee. If you could call it coffee, it was more like sweetened sludge.

"Oh about 170 cm give or take." And he pushed his glasses up his nose. "Akihito was at your altar, crying and saying some things. Things you probably won't like."

"He's here?" This night had gone from boring to interesting. "What kind of things?" The only things he wanted to hear out of Akihito was him moaning his name underneath him. He felt like dancing a little jig, but seeing as how Asami wasn't Irish, nor did he know what a jig was (other than _the jig is up_) he decided he would just stand there instead.

"He's flapping his gums about how you may not be dead." He said, and swallowed a laugh.

"Flapping his gums….have you been watching the Sopranos again?" He asked.

"Guilty as charged. He could start trouble, so I made the executive decision and asked him to accompany me." Kirishima said. Akihito could be trouble, start trouble and be a trouble magnet. Seems Takaba and trouble were synonymous. If you looked up _trouble _in the dictionary, there would be Takaba's grinning photo.

"Asked?" Asami's eyes narrowed. "So he knows I'm alive."

"He guessed. I'm afraid I also didn't deny it." He replied and cringed for the lion's roar, which to his surprise didn't come.

"He's awful quiet for a kid that gets squawky when he's riled. Did you…uh…what do they say on the Sopranos….slip him a mickey?" He asked.

"He's dead to the world, he's sleeping." Kirishima replied.

"Sleeping? Knowing the trouble he's in? He didn't try to get away?" This stunned him.

"His leg prevents him from running much these days, at least the leg he has on today. You see, his other prosthetic….." He began.

He held up a hand. "Spare me the details. Who else knows about these little theories of his?"

"That I wasn't able to find out. He said he'd snoop around. I figured we'd cut to the chase, seeing as he was already questioning why your bodyguards didn't die at your side on the boat."

"Smart boy. He definitely knows too much." Unfortunately Akihito didn't know enough to stay out of trouble. If he did…he wouldn't be in this mess.

"So, if he starts asking questions then…." He started to say.

"Everyone will start asking." Asami finished, everyone being code for those Yakuza nitwits and the Fuzz.

"Do you trust him?" Kirishima asked, although he didn't really feel like asking it. But someone had to say it. Might as well be him.

"I can make people talk….keeping them quiet requires precision." Keeping people quiet requires them to be dead, actually as in _dead men tell no tales_.

"What are your orders?"

He shrugged. "That depends really…if Takaba is willing to play along. He's stumbled across information in the past, and not squealed. After all, I seem to recall owing him a favor."

"What favor is that?"

"The Hakatora photos."

"Of course." Kirishima's mood brightened but you couldn't tell. "Asami-sama…he's not the boy you remember."

Asami felt a moment of hesitation, no not panic, just a slight flipping in his stomach, maybe because he ate instant ramen for dinner. "He's not….well?" That light in Akihito's eyes, that fire...would he see it again?

"On the contrary, he's grown up, not much, but a little."

"That remains to be seen….I'd like a little chat with our captive…alone." He said, as they walked slowly to the limo and stopped. He tried to imagine Akihito's panicked face just on the other side of the tinted glass. "Busy yourself, would you? Tell Akira that the motor has been giving me trouble." And yet, another thing that was giving him trouble, other than Akihito.

Kirishima wouldn't go near that car once those two twits started arguing. Not for all the tea in China, not that he liked tea or anything. He preferred plain water, from the tap.

Anyway, after those two idiots argued for a while, they'll follow up with the inevitable makeup sex and it would fall onto him to clean up the remains of whatever the hell those two did together. Maybe he'd have to take a hose to the backseat this time. One thing for sure, Asami was going to be incredibly happy after this and Akihito was going to be…limping a lot more than he already was. That is, if they could come to a meeting of the minds. If they didn't it was going to be one short discussion, most likely ending up with Akihito…..well, it was best not to think along those lines. He had far more pleasant things to think about, like who was Jack the Ripper and what happened to Bambi's mother?

~BVF~

Akihito woke, but still didn't open his eyes. Maybe if he played dead, they'd leave him alone. Asami was as big as a bear (no, not down there not that he knew what a bear's junk looked like), so maybe he didn't like to play with dead things. It was worth a shot? Right? Yeah, that wasn't going to work. He'd have to use his quick wit and his smarts to get out of this one. Not that he had either in abundance.

The car had stopped, so either they were at their unnamed destination or Kirishima was really running errands…at midnight. Where were they? A secret rebel base? The Batcave? A top-secret underground bunker? Any of those possibilities seemed plausible, given how much money Asami had. He could build Disneyland underground and ride Space Mountain for the rest of his life, probably with just the interest incurred daily alone. Eh, maybe not. Math was hard.

He could hear talking, somewhere in the distance…well, it proved at least his ears were working properly. One of the men was definitely Asami judging by that smooth baritone voice and Akihito's heart did a little skip. He was really alive. And he was one of the few that knew he was alive. And it just dawned on him, because Akihito was fashionably late to this party that he knew something few people in the world knew. Asami was alive.

Their clandestine conversation only aroused his interest, his ears twitched like a cats, hoping to catch what they were going to do with him or to him. He was really up shit creek, no paddle, no floatation device, hell, no boat either.

He panicked. Hoping he could get away, even though he realized he probably couldn't in his current state, he tried the door handle and to his surprise it opened. But who should be standing there, blocking his not so hasty exit with his big body, looking like Brutus from the Popeye cartoon (complete with beard), was none other than that pompous prick, Asami. Asami the dead guy, in the flesh.

"There's no place to go." Asami said softly, almost as if he didn't want to be overheard. He stared into Akihito's eyes intently, studying them. Why they couldn't just say _hello_ and _how are you_ like normal people?

_Akihito's eyes….that fire…..it burned brighter than ever. _

Akihito stared back with a more heated glare, wondering why Asami was looking at him with fondness? Relief? It was almost a blank look, but…well maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe Asami was thinking as how to best dispose of his body or wondering how much his organs would bring on the black market. Lack of sleep was making Akihito think dark and loopy thoughts.

"Maybe not but would you really prevent me from going?" He asked with a hopeful sneer.

"Yes." He said simply. "I would." Akihito's shoulders slumped, even though Asami sounded almost…kind? Actually it made Akihito panic even more, that tone of voice, like he was going to butter him up and then roast him like a pig. He tried to slide passed Asami, but he pushed one finger against his shoulder and stopped his advancement. "Not cool, pushing the crippled guy."

"Seeking pity doesn't suit you at all." Asami said in a voice that sounded much like his dad's.

Akihito narrowed his eyes, which made him look kind of funny. "You're pretty lively for a dead guy, Asami." Akihito replied with malice, and he sat back into the safety of the car. Like a hunk of metal was going to save him from Asami's wrath. It might, seeing as how Kirishima hated to clean blood (among other copious fluids) out of upholstery.

"Move over." Now that sounded like the Asami he knew and (cough) loved. "I'm coming in. It's cold out here."

Akihito started trembling, visibly, and he couldn't stop it. "There's no room. Kirishima's paperwork and shit are all over the place." He said. Of course, he was lying. Kirishima would never be so careless with paperwork. He loved paperwork like his own flesh and blood, seeing how Kirishima didn't seem to have a libido or an interest in procreating.

"You're making excuses. Am I making you nervous?" He said and there was that smirk Akihito thought he had missed. Actually he hadn't missed it. That smirk was rather infuriating.

"I'm seeing my life flash before my eyes, considering as how in a few minutes I'm going to pay for my big mouth, so yeah." Akihito said.

"Big mouth, huh." He climbed into the limo, pulled the door shut and sat across from Akihito, who was now absorbed in the intricate markings on the top of his cane. Asami grabbed the Maker's Mark bottle amongst the dozen or so other bottles standing neatly in the bar, unscrewed the cap and poured himself a drink and took a sip, studying Akihito calculatingly over the lip of his glass. "Would you like a drink?"

Akihito snorted. "Kirishima tried that one on me, it didn't work." He replied. "So no….thank you." He added with sarcasm.

Asami smirked. Someone had grown up. "Have you told anyone your conspiracy theory?" He asked, and turned on the overhead dome light. He didn't like sitting in the dark. Bad things happened in the dark.

"No. I didn't tell anyone. But really, who would believe the ramblings of the jilted…what was I to you anyway?" He asked, seeing as if he was going to die, might as well get some questions answered.

This conversation was making Asami see red, blue and some other colors on the rainbow. "Your lover?"

"I was going for convenient fuck toy." Asami's mouth twitched. "Anyway, people might come snooping around if I disappear. Quite a few people know I went to Club Sion earlier, so…it would be best if you just let me go."

He chuckled. "Are you threatening me?" He chuckled again, a mocking sound that made Akihito shudder. "Are you worried I'm going to kill you?"

He looked at Asami in the eyes, trying to figure out if he was serious. Actually when wasn't he serious? "To put it bluntly, yes, what's stopping you?"

"You don't have to trust me, as long as you can sway me to trust you." He said, keeping his eyes on Akihito's hazel ones. When people lied to him, he always knew…something about the person's eyes when they fibbed...and seeing as how Akihito's face was mostly eyes, he could always tell when Akihito was lying. He just couldn't hide it.

"I only have my word. That's all I have to offer." He said, and he continued to stare into Asami's eyes. Those gorgeous intoxicating eyes that said what Asami didn't say with his lips. And if eyes could talk, his did. "I find loose-lipped people untrustworthy."

"I want more than your word." He said forcefully.

"What do you want? A pinky?" He shrugged. "Need another appendage to add to your collection?"

He chuckled again. "No. Are you new? I want you. I want you to submit to me, your body, your mind, your soul…everything. You still belong to me." He sat next to Akihito, who tried to scoot away from him, with no luck, seeing as how he was crammed into the far corner of the limo.

Akihito pushed Asami in the chest with end of his cane. "Personal space." Asami didn't move though, he was too amused by Akihito's daring maneuver that he almost laughed. Almost. "Then how come you ordered Kirishima to tell me….what was it? Oh yeah, that my services were no longer needed? What kind of fucked break-up was that?" Akihito asked with tempered anger, his eyes hard with irritation.

"I had my reasons." He looked down, and pulled a toothpick out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingers. Green tea flavor.

"As in, because you're a bastard?" He said, and the corners of his mouth quirked upward slightly, as if he had an epiphany. "Yeah, that's it, huh? You just like doing things just for the hell of it, right?"

His smirk died. "At the time, it was easier for both of us."

"Yeah, easier for you." He said with a snort. "By the way Kou enlightened me on a little heart-to-heart you had, while I lay in a coma. That was enlightening."

"I knew that little discussion we had would come back to bite me in the ass." He replied. "So now, you know the truth."

"Really, Asami," he said, and he sounded like he was scolding a child, "you weren't even brave enough to tell me yourself?"

"If that's what's bothering you." He said through clenched teeth. "Akihito," he said softly, "You didn't belong in my world." He couldn't believe he was saying it himself. But that was the truth. "I was afraid….."

"You, afraid?" Akihito said, seeing as he couldn't believe what he was hearing either. He reached up to smack that smug smirk off Asami's face, but Asami was too fast, and caught his hand in midair, and held it with a growl in warning.

"Don't." Warned Asami in a low tone and continued to hold his wrist, his rage just boiling below the surface.

Akihito returned his glare. "Afraid? I don't believe it for a second!" yelled Akihito, who wrenched his hand away and rubbed the tender spot on his wrist. "Afraid to love someone other than yourself? You self-absorbed prick!" The tears were starting to prick the corners of his eyes, and if he blinked, they would spill over. He clenched his fists tightly and let his nails make half-moon circles in the palms of his hands, something he did when he was in pain, mental or otherwise.

"I was afraid for your life!" He yelled loudly, hitting the window behind them with his fist with a soft clunk, which should have hurt but he didn't let on. "They would have fished you out of Tokyo Bay! I would be lighting incense for you, kneeling at your altar! Did you want to die Akihito? Did my warnings and threats mean nothing to you? Did you think it was child's game?" He yelled loudly, his voice echoing in the car.

"Afraid someone would break your toy?" He quipped. "Too late! It's broken, and it had nothing to do with you! I did this all on my own!" He hit his leg with his cane and it echoed hollow within the car, a kind of _thump_ sound like when you hit your annoying sister with a plastic whiffle bat. Asami startled and look distressed for just an instant, only a slight furrowing of his brow was the only indication.

Akihito turned and stared out the window, hiding the tears that had a mind of their own, if tears could have minds. He ran a hand through his blond hair as camouflage as he wiped the tears from his face, feeling the scars from his brain surgery underneath his fingers.

"You were never, ever my toy!" He picked up his empty whiskey glass and threw it at the window and watched it bounce off the window before landing on the floor. "Death is permanent, Akihito. You should know that by now!"

Akihito shuddered at Asami's outburst but still didn't turn away from the window. "So says the guy who came back from the dead." He finally turned back to a seemingly agitated Asami, judging by the frown and the hard look in his eyes.

"Look, it wasn't my idea to come here." Akihito continued, his temper cooled a bit. "Kirishima didn't give me much of a choice. So now that we're done sharing our feelings or whatever the hell this was….I want to go home now. I have stuff to do tomorrow."

Maybe yelling was good for the soul, as in the next instance, Asami looked almost, well, not quite, back to his cool, calm, stoic, lack of emotion self. "I still have things to say." He flicked the forgotten toothpick into his mouth.

"Yeah, I'll stay off your turf and I won't hurt your business. My job description has changed, if you haven't heard. My targets are the four-legged kind now. The pay is better and animals tend to smile when you take their picture."

"Yes, I saw the magazine." There was a long pause, so long that Akihito figured Asami had run out of things to say. Asami touched Akihito's hand gently, so gentle, that it felt like a feather across his skin. "You take beautiful photos….." He almost added "_kid_" to the end of that sentence but decided against it. "…..I prefer your new targets to the old ones."

That declaration stunned him. Asami had acknowledged him, he was proud of him, not that he cared about or anything (yeah right). Akihito's hand didn't move. He was tempted to pull it back, but he left it there, seeing as how Asami's thumb tracing his middle finger was strangely erotic, and made him kind of hot….in the nether regions.

He shrugged. "I'm glad you enjoyed the article. It came with a high-price." Akihito said automatically, as he sat mesmerized as Asami sucked on his toothpick, it dangled out like a cigarette before he rolled it skillfully between his lips and then Asami's tongue would peek out and reposition it firmly in his mouth again. Akihito clenched and unclenched his fists in an attempt to get rid of whatever perverted memory that was nagging at him right then. He took a breath. He could feel the heat rising on his cheeks, over Asami sucking on a toothpick. He was hopeless, helpless pervert.

"What's this, a blush?" He said. "You're making me think naughty thoughts." His eyes focused on his own thumb, which continued to trace Akihito's fingers, tempering Asami's lust in a tight holding pattern, like he was a plane not able to land, as of yet. "So what I said earlier…" Asami's hand moved to Akihito's hair, caressing it gently.

"Wait. Asami. Please." He pushed Asami's hand, reluctantly at first, away from him.

"Hmm?" His hand hovered in mid-air, as if waiting for Akihito's next move, which he hoped didn't include elbowing him the ribs.

"You don't…you don't understand….my body…it's not….it's not like it was before." Akihito said. "I'm kind of….."

"And that matters why?" He interrupted, putting his arms behind his head and stretching in Super-duper Asami seductive pose, which included the erotic half-lidded glare and the unconscious flicker of his gold eyes.

Akihito ignored it, since he's seen it before, and he was immune (sort of). "I don't think...that we are compatible anymore, my body…I mean...the leg…and..."

"Not compatible?" He flicked his thoroughly chewed toothpick (because he was sexually frustrated) on the floor and pulled Akihito towards him in almost one movement, fitting Akihito into that hollow space made empty when Asami put his arms around him. "Look. Look how you fit perfectly. Look how we're the same. Look how much pleasure you give me when I touch you. I do the same for you, right?" He took Akihito's hand, and used it to rub his package, which had gotten bigger the minute he sat eyes on his boy again, even when they were yelling at each other. Only Akihito had ever done that for him. "You should be honest. The one who has a problem with it, is you." Judging by the horrified look on Akihito's face, he nailed it. And then he was going to be nailing Akihito, with his cock that is.

"I don't…I just don't want to fight anymore, it seems…..I don't know…pointless." He said, staring directly at Asami's lips, which were slightly hidden by the beard. When had his lips looked so…so…delicious? He bit his lip, imaging those lips on his, devouring them hungrily as if Asami was starving. He leaned forward slightly, in anticipation. When he looked away from Asami's lips to his eyes again, he was startled by the feral look there, as if he was fighting some inner incubus, who wanted nothing more than to claim Akihito's body and take down with him, to hell. What a way to go.

"Then don't fight me, Akihito." He said, took his chin in his hands softly, traced it with his thumb and kissed him, just lightly with his lips. Akihito trembled. He was right, everything fit perfect, as if he were molded for Asami. His lips over his, his hand at his waist, as if made for it. Asami's lust filled eyes made him look like a horny teenager who'd been caught doing something dirty in his room. And those eyes were on Akihito's. "You're mine." He said, and kissed him, hard this time, his tongue immediately finding space in Akihito's willing mouth.

Akihito stifled a giggle.

"What are you giggling about?" Asami said, turning his attention to the zipper of Akihito's jacket, and unzipped it, slowly, his fingers skimming on accident (or on purpose) the already peaked nipples underneath.

"You're beard, it tickles."

*see uncensored version at mistressdi dot livejournal dot com.

Asami closed his arms around Akihito for a moment, calming their breath. It was starting to actually feel like a sauna in the car. One well-placed kiss on Akihito's lips and Asami pulled out, but stayed, hovering over him.

"Sleep." Akihito said. "Need to sleep."

"No sleep for the wicked. I'm taking you captive on the boat."

"Huh?" Akihito said and opened one eye and looked Asami's suspended figure over him, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Boat. You can sleep on the boat, and then….round two," he nibbled at Akihito's red and pert nipple, "…followed by…round three," he bit at his collarbone "…and etcetera." He nipped his lips lightly. "You're my prisoner."

"Yeah right, as if. I have to leave, Asami, for Brazil, the day after tomorrow, actually tomorrow, seeing as it's what…" He looked at the watch on his cane, "tomorrow already." He grabbed his pants, and with effort pulled them back on. He checked the damage on his shirt and shrugged, as he zipped up his jacket. It had gone very quiet in the car. "Say something."

"How long?" He asked, but when he said it, it sounded very girly, he hated sounding girly.

"Two months this time. More big cats, for some reason, they think I'm an expert on them, or something." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The leg is not an issue on this assignment. I'm very lucky, you know, to be able to find work."

"Yes, that's good." He said, and gripped the door handle. Seeing as how Asami didn't get teary eyed or anything at goodbyes. "I'll see you, when you get back."

"Get rid of the beard, and it's a date." He answered. Asami smirked, and with a look of silent farewell, Asami opened the door, pausing when Akihito spoke, his voice resonating in the still night air. "Keep your nose clean, Asami." As if he needed reminding, which he didn't.

"Be safe, Akihito." As if he needed reminding, which he didn't.

Asami turned and blowing into his hands to warm them, went to reclaim the night.

The End?

"My Tongue is Weary; when My Legs Are Too, I Will Bid You Good Night."  
Henry IV, Part II


End file.
